


Charmed

by midnightofthesoul



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, First Meetings, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-04 10:04:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 34,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4133457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightofthesoul/pseuds/midnightofthesoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak meet, it does not go well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Flash Fic #32: Rules of Engagement

_Step one: know thine enemy._

The first time Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak meet, it does not go well. Actually, it goes the opposite of well.

Eight months after coming back from the dead, former playboy Oliver Queen has taken over as CEO of Queen Consolidated from his mother, Moira Queen. His first move is to form a merger with Palmer Technologies. This partnership is brokered over months of late nights, determining who or what will be shut down, which departments will combine, which will be relocated. It's stressful and nerve wracking, to say the least.

The day the merger is complete, a black tie affair is held in celebration. For the first time in weeks, Oliver is out of the office before eight in the evening, showing up to the event with his statuesque sister on his arm and his stalwart bodyguard in tow. Pictures are taken, hands are shaken, comments are made and some… are overheard.

"I’m not looking forward to whoever Palmer is sending to be his rep once he returns home," Oliver comments to his best friend and burgeoning businessman-in-arms, Tommy Merlyn. The pair stand to the side of the dessert table, voices low and thoughts glum.

"It'll probably be some techno-geek who will lap you in the IQ department," Tommy replies, smiling at an acquaintance. "Hopefully the guy will just stay in his cave and only appear for nightly feedings."

"You make them sound like vampires," Oliver smirks with a raised brow. "Besides, from what I've heard, Palmer is sending some woman from headquarters to fill his shoes."

"A lady-geek? Fantastic. What's your plan then? Give her the old Queen razzle dazzle? Charm her pants off?"

Oliver shrugs, completely unaware of the petite blonde trying to squeeze between him and Tommy so she can grabs a slice of chocolate mousse cake. Upon hearing the term lady-geek, she freezes.

"I'd rather not mix business with pleasure, but if I need to lay on the charm to make sure she does what I want, then I'm not above using my skill set."

The blonde makes a face of displeasure just as she lays hands on the glorious looking chocolate mousse. This also happens to be when the 'charmer' is turning to set down his empty champagne flute. Not paying much attention, he assumes she's a server and hands her the glass without so much as a second glance and continues talking with his friend, making a somewhat crude remark about late nights at the office and conference tables.

Silently fuming, she's about to give him a piece of her mind when her boss and best friend, Ray Palmer appears.

"Felicity! I was wondering if you were going to make it in time! I heard about the troubles with the jet," he grins brightly at seeing his right-hand woman. "Glad to see you in one piece. And —" he spots Oliver only a couple steps away, "would you look at this great timing?"

Ray taps Oliver on the shoulder just as he slides his hand around Felicity's elbow, bringing them face to face. Oliver gives her fresh off the jet appearance a brief once-over that makes her skin crawl while his friend does the same. She tries to ignore his beautifully chiseled jaw and rugged good looks in favor of wondering at the closed off look in his eyes.

"Felicity Smoak meet Oliver Queen," Ray introduces happily. "Felicity is the one I've been telling you about, Oliver. She's going to be my representative here when I return back to the mothership. Trust me, you'll be in good hands."

"Pleased to meet you," states Oliver as he drops his chin an inch in acknowledgment, holding out a hand to shake.

Still peeved, she looks at his hand then back at him, her eyes narrowing a fraction. She hands him his empty champagne flute and gives him a cold look, " _Charmed_ , I'm sure."

Taking brief delight in the way his face falls at her words, she struts away in her too-high heels and goes in search of something to eat.

.::.

_Step two: do not underestimate thine enemy._

The second time they meet is not much better. The following Monday is the board meeting in which parties from both sides come together to finalize internal structuring and the expansion of the Applied Sciences Department. Oliver sits at one end of the boardroom, casually volleying back and forth with Palmer in a relatively agreeable manner.

At least until Felicity shows up. She glides into the room with sunshine hair, fushcia lips and turquoise heels, and slides into a chair next to Ray. Within minutes, she  _politely_  cuts off Oliver and commandeers the meeting, blowing holes into the last three hours worth of development and completely turning the world on end.

And dammit if she isn't logical and strategic to a fault.

Ray smartly allows his VP to take over while Oliver's CTO and head of applied sciences go back and forth with Felicity, where a chess match of the finest order is convened. Within forty-five minutes the entire company is re-organized and only ten jobs were lost on account of redundancy and poor performance appraisals

Felicity doesn't spare Oliver so much as a glance during the entire show.

At the meeting's conclusion she collects her tablet and her coffee, whispers something to Ray and gifts her opponents with a beam of sunlight in the form of a smile.

"So that's your vice president?" Oliver watches her walk away as Ray trots up with an affable grin.

"Yeah, she's a hurricane in the best possible way. I'm just lucky she agreed to leave Wayne Enterprises and come work for me."

This takes Oliver by surprise. "Really? What'd she do at Wayne?"

"She was recruited while she was still at M.I.T. to work with Lucious Fox. Remember that multi-million dollar stock market boost in nano-tech they had about four years ago? All her."

"Why didn’t they keep her?"

Ray's bright smile slides off his face. "Something happened while she was working there. I know that Bruce Wayne kept a close eye on her. He fought pretty hard to keep her. But in the end, it was her decision to leave."

"Oh," Oliver rolls this over in his mind, still curious about the straight-shooting blonde. "How much longer are you here for?"

"Two weeks. Just long enough for the dust to settle and to make sure Felicity gets moved in. She's one of my best friends, Oliver," Ray turns to him with a seldom used look of seriousness. "I'd appreciate it if you'd do everything in your power to ensure that she's safe and well looked after. She has a tendency of getting… absorbed by her work."

"I'm not a nanny, Ray."

"Not asking you to be," Ray sighs. "Just be her friend. And  _only_  a friend."

Oliver hears the unspoken threat and heeds the gravity of the  man's words.

.::.

_Step three: surrender in good faith_

Except when absolutely necessary, Felicity ignores Oliver. Completely. After an two months of daily meetings, frequent social functions and the occasional awkward elevator ride, Oliver finally breaks down and submits to his desire to see the elusive Felicity Smoak.

"Where are we headed?" asks Digg as they stroll through the halls of QC, nodding at fellow employees. Oliver likes to visit several floors a day, to make his presence known and give face time to section managers who are in the thick of it.

"To Applied Sciences. I caught Jeff practically skipping into work today because of a new prototype he and Ms. Smoak are testing out and I'm curious to see what it is."

The telling silence and smug grin on his bodyguard's face are enough to make Oliver halt in the middle of the lobby. "What?"

"So because your CTO is excited over a new toy means you need to investigate? It has absolutely nothing to do with the Vice President that's also going to be present?"

Oliver simply rolls his eyes, not even dignifying the man with a scoff. Pivoting on his heel, Oliver chooses to take the stairs up to the Applied Sciences floor, enjoying the quick breathing his friend makes when they reach their destination. Upon exiting the stairwell, the pair find the Applied Sciences department to be a ghost town.

"What's going on?" Digg mutters, instantly on alert.

"No idea," Oliver replies, head on the swivel. "I've only been here twice. The employees over here tend to look at me like a combination of idiot and something they've scraped off their shoe."

"I think that's just their faces," Digg replies as he nods in the direction of the viewing gallery where a large crowd has assembled. Oliver and Digg walk up quietly behind the last row of people and peer through thick glass into a cavernous white-walled space. Inside is a large craft, drone-sized, resting on hydraulic lifts.

Oliver watches as a group of techs sitting behind a bank of computers look up to the petite blonde who's just entered with Jeff.

"Alright everyone, I know we've all been slaving around the clock to get phase one rolled out and I cannot tell you how pleased I am with all your hard work! To show a mere hint of my appreciation, I've got Big Belly Burger delivering a quality meal in the staff lounge after Jeff and I take a shot at piloting this badboy."

"To echo Felicity's words, I just want to say thank you for your hard work. It is greatly appreciated. And please, LET THE GAMES BEGIN!"

Oliver's eyes grow wide at Jeff's enthusiasm. This is possibly one of the meekest fifty-five year olds Oliver knows. Jeff takes a seat at smaller row of computers while Felicity does the same. They bring up multiple interfaces on their giant touch screens, pull on headsets, and get ready.

Oliver smirks as Felicity toes off her high heels, dropping several inches in height. Her small frame does little to take away from her magnetism as he cannot pull his eyes away from her. After a several minutes of typing and button pushing, Felicity glances over to Jeff and gives him a thumbs up. The pair look back at their screens as a countdown commences.

Breaking his gaze away from Felicity, Oliver watches as the craft makes a deep rumbling sound from behind the glass, gradually building in volume. It's a bit rocky at first, then the nose raises, followed by the tail end, finally getting leverage and lifting away from the lifts.

Oliver's jaw drops as cheers and applause erupt from the onlookers. He looks at Digg and shakes his head, incredulous. "There's a flying object in my building!"

"No kidding!" Digg claps him on the back as they return their focus to Felicity and Jeff who lower the craft back to it's resting place. After shutting it down in tandem, the team removes their head sets and give each other a high five, turning to their row of techs and shaking hands and exchanging congratulations.

By the time Felicity makes her way through the crowd, it's only then that Oliver realizes that she's still barefoot and pocket-sized. If she wasn't fixing him with that hard look, he'd want to squeeze her to his side or maybe pull her pony-tail.

_What what?_

"Mr. Queen!" she gives him a stiff smile, bestowing Digg with one that is noticeably warmer. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"I ran into Jeff this morning, he invited me over to watch the launch, which… that was absolutely incredible," Oliver doesn't bother to hide his excitement, knowing that she prefers honesty in every way. "Just… great work, seriously."

Her eyebrows draw together as her head falls to the side, giving him a long look as she tries to decipher his enthusiasm. Something about him must ring true because suddenly she straightens and gives him a thousand watt smile that makes her heart hammer and blood rush to his head.

"Thank you, Mr. Queen. We have a great team here. But really, it's them you should be thanking," she replies truthfully, motioning to the crowd that's reviewing the data now being pulled up on many of the virtual screens around the office.

"I fully intend to show my gratitude. Maybe with a bonus? Perhaps a day off?" he replies as he returns his gaze to her, "and please, call me Oliver. Mr. Queen was my father."

"But he's dead, so that means it's all you now," her eyes grow wide as she clamps her mouth shut. "I mean. Yes he's passed away and that you're his heir and by law that makes you Mr. Queen and not your dead father and but maybe because just because he died doesn't mean he lost his name and please dear GOD why am I still talking?" She shuts her eyes and pinches her fingers to the bridge of her nose.

The fleeting look of anguish and bright flush that creep from her neck all the way to her cheeks are enough for Oliver to turn his head to keep from laughing.

"You know, you've worked here for two months, and it took me that entire time to finally get one of your infamous rambles out of you?"

Hand jerking away, she looks up at him in surprise,"I'd hardly qualify that as a ramble. More like an embarrassing run-on sentence. I once had an epic display back at Wayne —" she stops abruptly and sucks in a sharp breath, shaking her head briefly. "Anyway… I think we're going to eat now. Would you care to join us,  _Oliver_?"

The corner of his lip quirks upwards. It's the first time she's ever said his first name or even extended a shred of an olive branch toward him. He'll take everything he can get.

"Why yes,  _Felicity_ ," he says her name slowly and with care, each letter sliding off his tongue, "I'd love that."

Felicity grins brightly and guides them to the staff lounge, talking a mile a minute. The entire time, Digg looks on as this small but mighty woman swiftly charms the indomitable Oliver Queen with a simple smile and bounce of her pony-tail.


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They do not become friends straight away.

They do not become friends straight away. Oliver frequently gets caught up in Hood business and Felicity spends a majority of her time in the Applied Sciences wing. Excluding the one time Oliver ventured over to Applied Sciences, he stays in the business realm in which he is most comfortable. Bi-weekly meetings are the extent of their interactions for the most part.

It’s not until six weeks later that they learn they are neighbors.

“Felicity? I didn’t know you come here,” Oliver starts upon walking past her table at Jitters. She breaks her pensive gaze from her tablet and blinks owlishly.

“Oliver! Yes, it’s part of my Saturday routine when I'm here,” she smiles at him as he shoves his hands in his pockets. “What about you?”

“Me too. I live just up the street and it’s the closest one with a quality cup, so…”

“Wait, you live up the street? Where?”

“Waterview lofts.”

She narrows her eyes. “I bet you’re the one that got the penthouse, aren’t you?”

“What? Did I beat you to it?”

“Ha. Hardly. Us peasants stick to more affordable living establishments.” Felicity rolls her eyes and shakes her head at him, “Here, take a seat.”

Oliver slides in across from her, watching as she takes a long sip of what appears to be a latte. “So then where do you live?”

“Across the street, actually.” She adjusts her glasses. “I felt like they had better security options. That and they’ve got a much better gym.”

“Better gym? Please. The rooftop on my building has both an infinity pool and a lap pool. And don’t get me started on their cardio room…” They devolve into a thirty minute discussion on living environments and home theaters when Oliver receives a text from his sister.

“Need to take off?” Felicity asks as he texts a quick reply to Thea.

“No, Thea and I are getting lunch today and she stumbled upon the post fashion-week display at Louis Vuitton.”

Felicity smiles, shaking her head at his sister’s antics. “She seems a lot better… now. When I first met her she was a bit…”

“Bitchy?”

“Abrasive.”

“Yes, remember that day you yelled at me for —“

“Woah there, mister, I did not yell —“

“Fine... _c_ _hided_ me for skipping movie night with my sister so I could work late? Well, I listened to you and I went home and hung out with Speedy and we’ve been having movie night ever since.” Oliver cuts his gaze away from the warm smile that he knows will be adorning her face. "Things have improved. Greatly."

“See! I told you I’m alway right,” she fist pumps in delight. 

“I admit, you have your moments.” Oliver puts both elbows on the table, fingers toying with the edge of his mug. “What are you up to today?”

“This is one of my rare weekends completely free,” Felicity offers. “Since Jacob lives in Central City we tend to alternate weekends on who visits whom. Unfortunately he’s in China for work, so I’m left to my own devices.”

Oliver stiffens at the mention of another man. He's not sure why Felicity having a boyfriend bothers him. He's never thought of her in that capacity. Well, not directly. He leaves his smile in place but it loses sincerity. Keep it calm, stay smooth. “And who might this Jacob be?”

Felicity glances up from her tablet, her head falling to the side with her brows furrowed. “He’s my boyfriend. He was in town the week of the Children’s Hospital Gala.”

“I had to skip that.”

“Oh, right! I forgot. ‘Motorcycle’ accident.” She puts the word in quotations as though she doesn’t believe any of the lies he’s been feeding her for months.

“What, you don’t think I was involved in an accident? I still have the road rash —“ he rises to lift up his shirt for proof but she leans forward, tugging his shirt town. He sucks in a breath when her fingers accidentally graze skin beneath his shirt and they both know she feels scars, not road rash. She snatches her hand away and returns to her seat, while Oliver eases back into his chair, feeling uncomfortable.

The silence grows for nearly a minute until Felicity breaks it. “I just… “ she lets out a soft breath, keeping her gaze on the table. “I just know a thing or two about using one truth to cover another.”

Oliver’s skin flushes and he’s immediately wary that she knows his secret. That this woman, who could easy take over his company and ruin everything he’s worked hard to build, could do so with a few clicks of a button. Before he can even allow himself to worry that she may threaten all that he holds dear, she glances up at him with a sheepish smile. 

“It’s getting late. I have to FaceTime my mom in ten minutes, so I’m going to head home,” she rises and slides her tablet in her chic case and brings it over her shoulder. “It was good to see you Oliver. Maybe we can do it again sometime… it, meaning coffee and discussing things. Not… anything weird or remotely bedroom-worthy. Wow... I’m going to leave now.”

And just like that, she’s gone.

.::.

Oliver doesn’t run into her at the coffee shop for over three weeks. He does, however, discover that she likes to walk to QC. Early one morning, far too early for business, he catches Felicity leaving her building across the street. He’s returning from a run, coated in sweat and breathing heavy. Felicity walks along in a daydream state as he happens upon her, hair down and fluttering in the breeze. He flicks the tip of her hair as he rounds her, an unbidden smile crossing his face as she yelps in surprise.

“You know, some crazy woman could like… I don’t know, elbow drop you in the manparts for doing something like that.”

“Lucky for me, you aren’t a crazy woman,” Oliver replies as he jogs backwards, facing her as she walks. “Do you normally go to work this early?”

“Yes. I am most productive between the hours of seven thirty and nine thirty. Hence the reason why my department head meetings don’t start until ten. I’ve already accomplished more by ten than I do over the course of the rest of the day.”

“Impressive.”

“Well, I’m also a night owl and code a lot at night. I once talked Ray into letting me work home for the week. But he ran analytics on my work output and realized I was working like… twenty hour days and he didn’t like that very much.”

Oliver nods, thinking that sounds exactly like Ray. “He’s very protective of you. He warned me to be nice to you before he left.”

“He's one of the best people I've ever known," Felicity states assuredly, glancing up at Oliver. "Did he also tell you what my favorite coffee order is?”

Oliver slows, shaking his head. “No. Was he supposed to?”

Grinning, Felicity steps around Oliver and keeps walking while Oliver remains still, watching her continue on. “No. But true friends get each other coffee. Just saying.”

At their bi-weekly meeting, there is a grande skim mocha sitting at Felicity’s seat at the table when she arrives. The smile she gifts Oliver with could power Starling City for a week.

.::.

It becomes habit for Oliver to jog/walk with Felicity to work in the mornings. He will never be the type to go in early, but that doesn’t mean he can’t cool down while he has his shot of sunshine in the morning. Excluding days that it rains, he walks with her most mornings.

“So, how did your date go last night?” Felicity asks as she peers over at him from behind her coffee mug. 

“It was okay,” Oliver shrugs. He has no idea how he and Felicity became the kind of friends who discuss his dating life, but they have. “After everything that happened with McKenna and Helena, I think I’m just going to take a break. Focus on the company and everything.”

“Really? That’s your excuse? Are your nightly activities interfering too much with your personal life?”

She makes the allusion so easily, that he stops dead in his tracks, waiting for her to realize her slip up. 

“What nightly activities are you talking about, exactly?”

She stops as well and stares down at her feet, letting out a sigh. He wonders what she’d battling in her mind, but when she turns to face him, her sunny exterior that she wears like a shield is gone and in its place is a defiant look that takes no shit.

“Oliver, you’ve brought me a whole host of strange things to hack, decrypt, and repair over the months, the preposterous lies aside, it’s just way too easy to figure out what you do. And while I’m glad you’ve stopped dropping bodies, I still find myself questioning your motives. If you actually want to save this city, you need a strategy and a streamlined approach. Eliminating the one-percenters isn’t going to free the world of all it’s evils; it only makes way for ten more bad guys to take their place.” She bites her lip for a second, letting him digest her words. 

“There is so much good you could do, for your city and for yourself. But don’t sacrifice your personal life for the sake of vengeance. Trust me. In the end, you’ll be left with absolutely nothing and no one.”

This time, when Felicity spins on her heel and walks away, Oliver takes a step back and then another, struggling with her words that tear at his gut and accelerate his heart. 

He doesn’t go to work that day. Or the next.  Instead, he drops off the grid all together.

.::.

“Oliver Queen! I know you’re in there. I traced your GPS to this location. Open the door!” Smack! Boom! Bang! Thud!

The hard metal door to the foundry clangs beneath the weight of her ineffective pounding. Digg glances over at Oliver as he cooly pulls out another arrow to sharpen. 

“Seriously, man? She’s been banging on the door for the last ten minutes, when you gonna give in?”

Sleep deprived and irritated, Oliver merely grunts in reply. Before he can summon a defense, the banging stops. Casting a satisfied look at Digg, Oliver continues to sharpen the arrow.

Except a tell tale beep alerts them to the door opening and then she all but flies down the stairs in a pair of panda flats and a haze of fury. Oliver’s on his feet and in front of her before she can take another step inside, but takes a step back when he realizes how angry she is.

“WHAT is your problem!? I drop some cold hard truth on you and you don’t like it so you run away for a couple of days to brood? You can’t do that anymore Oliver. You’re a grown man with real world responsibilities that go outside of everything you do here.” She takes a step forward, poking him in the chest. 

“I had to meet with the board this morning and share with them that you had a 48 hour stomach bug and request that they push the vote off until Monday. In case you forgot, this was in regards to expanding the R & D Division. We’ve worked on that proposal for three weeks!” Her nose scrunches in a way that is 99% adorable and completely ruining her rant. "THREE!"

She carries on, hands on her hips as she puffs up her chest at Oliver. “Now I don’t care what happened or who stomped on your manpain, but grab your boot straps, pull yourself back up, and get back out there and do your job. I don’t care which job it is, but I do know Gorgeous Laurel needs your help — your _nightly_ help. I also know that I am _NEVER_  facing the board, YOUR BOARD of directors alone ever again.”

She straightens, pulling her leather jacket down as she sniffs. “The craziest part is that I’ve got a flight to catch in forty-five minutes but I was so outrageously angry with you, that I couldn’t go home still carrying this hatefire in me all weekend. It gives me indigestion which is not okay because Jacob and I are trying this new restaurant tomorrow and I’ve been looking forward to it for weeks,” her rant dies down just long enough to catch sight of Digg who’s standing off to the side. “Oh hey, Digg. I figured you were the one helping him out. Way to condone his selfish act of childishness, by the way —“

“Felicity,” Oliver starts slowly, trying to talk her off her anger ledge. “Why don’t you wait upstairs. Digg and I will take you to the airport and we can talk along the way.”

Sparing a moment to look between the two men, she nods in acquiescence and turns to stomp up the stairs in her fearsome shoes.

Oliver turns to Digg, feeling a bit dazed and more than plenty confused. Digg isn’t faring much better.

“What just happened?” Digg picks up his keys as he walks up to Oliver, blinking hard.

“I think we just experienced Felicity’s Loud Voice. I could do without ever hearing it again.”

“Agreed, man.” Digg starts up the stairs. “We better go before she comes back for round two.”

Oliver nods and takes a deep breath, preparing himself for his first ever surrender. Little does he know, it’ll be the first of many when it comes to Felicity Smoak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments. This will not be a long fic. More like... snap shots of their relationship from an AU perspective. Or something like that. Mainly it's mindless typing that can be done in an hour. Hence the short chapters. Hope you enjoyed.


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t know if I can handle having all my favorite people in one place. My heart might actually explode.”
> 
> Oliver gets to meet some important people in Felicity's life.

“Felicity.”

Clickity clackity clickity clackity.

“Felicity!”

“Eh? What? OH. Hi.” Felicity looks up from her computer screen to Oliver, blinking hard as she refocuses her eyes. 

“I’ve literally been standing here for three minutes. Your awareness of your surroundings leaves much to be desired.”

Felicity leans back in her chair as Oliver takes a seat in the chair opposite her desk. “Psht. First off, Jerry wouldn’t have let you past. Also I’ll have you know he’s like… a third degree black belt or something. AND — I have an excellent stranger danger sense. I _do_ become dulled to those familiar to me, however.”

“Sometimes those closest to you are the ones you should be most wary of.”

She quirks and eyebrow as she leans on one arm. “Is that a threat?”

“Not at all. But I do think you should be more cautious.”

“Please. Starling City can’t hold a candle to Gotham,” she replies dismissively before realizing her words. “Not that I’m belittling the night work you do, it’s just…”

“No offense taken,” Oliver cuts her off, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his knees. “So I still feel bad about blowing off the board meeting last week…”

“As you should,” she replies haughtily. She’s given him the cold shoulder for over a week now and Oliver has never been one to tolerate those closest to him holding him in contempt. Nor is he used to being blown off by women with whom he’s never slept.

“I would like to extend an olive branch... Since Thea has graduated high school, she has moved out of the mansion and in with me. We’re hosting a small party in celebration.”

Felicity leans forward in her chair, resting her chin on her fist. “This is adorable. Queen siblings together again. Are you guys going to hire a film crew? Turn into the Kardashians?”

He meets her response with a blank look, head falling to the side in confusion. 

“Never mind,” she waves a dismissive hand as she rises, typing a couple more things before securing her computer for the evening. “I’d be delighted to attend this soirée. When are you having it?”

“Next Tuesday, eight pm,” Oliver supplies as she rounds her desk, packing up her briefcase. “You don’t need to bring anything, attire is casual.”

“I think my definition of casual and your definition of casual are two different things. I’ll be sure to wear a dress and brush my hair first.”

Oliver ponders briefly what exactly her definition is, until she moves onto the next order of discussion once they reach the elevator. Digg is standing outside it, having already pushed the button. Felicity all but whistles as she gives Digg a once over. Both Oliver and Digg came from a late afternoon function warranting the use of linen suits to keep out the heat.

“Digg, I must say, you wear a linen suit mighty well,” Felicity remarks as they enter the elevator. She must catch the affronted look on Oliver’s face as she looks from Digg’s smug grin to Oliver’s peaked brow. “ _Fine._ Oliver, you look wonderful too. Like you don’t know how ridiculously good looking you are.”

“You think I’m good looking?” Oliver grins at the way her blush rises up from her neck to her cheeks.

“ _Anyway_ , I was thinking about this during our week of no-talking,” she turns to him, fixing him with a stern look. Later he will refer to this as _the look_. “You should tell your sister and your mother who you are. Also, you need to have an actual name. Something not so nefarious sounding. Because The Hood is not doing you any favors except for sounding like a WWE reject.”

Oliver ignores the way Digg’s shoulders hunch in trying to hold in laughter and fixes Felicity with a hard look. “Listen, just because you know my identity now, doesn’t mean you’re entitled to dictate how I operate.”

She holds her hands up in defense at his harsh response. “No dictation. Just a suggestion. I just think Thea would be safer if she knew. You could actually say things like, ‘Hey Thea, that is not a good guy to associate with’ and she might actually listen to you.”

“How do you know she doesn’t already?”

The elevator opens as they step out, walking through the lobby. “Have you _seen_ the jaw on the guy she’s with right now? Abercrombie might be hot, but he’s got a record. Nothing too awful, but still.” 

“What guy?”

“Seriously? Where have you been? I had lunch with her —“

“Since when do you have lunch with my sister?”

“Since the day she came to my office asking if I wanted to join her? She’s very persistent. She’d make a great marketing exec.” Felicity blinks up at him as they walk down the sidewalk, passing several office buildings. “Listen, don’t get all bent out of shape. Just think about it. Not Abercrombie, but the whole, ‘Not living a lie’ thing.”

“What makes you the expert on all this?”

Felicity clamps her mouth shut at his question, walking in silence for several moments without responding. By the time they reach the next block, she seems to have made up her mind.

“You still have no idea what happened to me at Wayne, do you?”

“No. I was waiting for you to tell me,” Oliver replies quietly. He glances up at Digg who takes the hint and starts walking slower behind them. “It seemed like something you’d share if you wanted me to know.”

The corner of her lip quirks upward in more of a sneer than anything. “It’s not something I want anyone to _know_ , Oliver. But there’s enough on the internet to give you a run down. You should look me up sometime. It might answer a few things for you.”

“You don’t want to be the one to tell me?”

She stops for a second, hand tightening on the shoulder strap of her brief case as she looks up at him. “What happened while you were in Lian Yu?”

Oliver immediately stiffens, his face hardening.

“That feeling,” she takes a step closer, eyes hard and voice low. “ _That’s_ what it feels like when people ask me about my time in Gotham.” She turns and begins walking again, leaving Oliver to catch up.  Once he does, tugging off his jacket and swinging it over his shoulder, she casts hims a glance, still dark and sad, but softer. 

“Just think about it, okay?”

They walk in silence for several more steps. “Okay.”

Just before they deposit her at her building, Oliver remembers about the gala that weekend.  “Are you going to be there, or are you going back to Central City?”

Felicity quirks her eyebrows at him. “No, I’ll be there. You _do_ remember that Ray is coming next week, right? We have big business things to discuss. And then I’ll be leaving Wednesday with Ray and I’ll be back in CC for two weeks.”

Oliver doesn’t bother hiding his scowl at the thought of her leaving. “You do realize you’re the only executive that has their calendar memorized, right? I don’t even know what’s happening tomorrow.”

“I think that’s more a _you_ thing and less an executive thing. Either way, yes I’ll be at the gala, and then I’ll be leaving the following morning after your Queen Siblings Shindig.”

“ _Don’t_.” Oliver shakes his head, frowning. “Call it that. _Ever_.”

"Soirée it is, then.' Felicity winks at Digg who’s smirking and about faces abruptly to head inside. “See you tomorrow morning?”

Nodding, Oliver doesn’t even bother to hide his grin at her implied forgiveness. “Bright and early.”

.::.

“What do you mean you don’t dance?” Felicity peers up at him, hands on her waist. “Didn’t you have to take Rich People Dancing 101?” 

The men are clad in fitted suits and bowties, the women in elegant gowns that cover each figure perfectly, most likely straight off some chic Parisian runway. They’re all so pretty they make mere mortals cower in shame. If forced to admit it, Oliver might say that he believes Felicity's floor length flowy one-shouldered ombre red dress is his favorite. But  _only_  under duress. It has absolutely nothing to do with the steadily growing regard he holds for the woman wearing it. Nope.

“For the record,” Thea interjects from her position beside Felicity, “it was Ballroom Dancing. And yes, he did.”

“Ha, still. Ollie doesn’t dance,” Tommy says knowingly, squeezing Gorgeous Laurel into his side. “I mean, he knows a move or two, but this guy just doesn’t enjoy it.”

“Really?” Felicity tilts her head to the side in contemplation. “It seems like something you’d use back in your younger days. One of those ploys to get closer to a girl.”

“Ouch! Right in the jugular!” Tommy chuckles as Laurel’s eyebrows dart upward. Oliver doesn’t react, waiting for Felicity to justify her words.

“Wow that came out much worse than it sounded in my head,” she stutters, taking a breath. “I just mean… you know, it’s just like a pick up line. It forces intimacy with the unacquainted.”

“And what about the acquainted?” Oliver replies, curious.

Felicity weighs his words. “Also possibly forcing intimacy. Still —“

“I don’t know about that,” Thea weighs in as she slides her hand around Abercrombie, _ahem_ , Roy’s arm. “For those who don’t welcome contact of any sort, I imagine a handshake is forcing intimacy.”

Oliver clears his throat, knowing that she was referring to him. “This conversation grew pretty serious over my unwillingness to dance. Maybe we need more wine.”

Before he can summon over a server, Felicity takes a step forward, giving him an impish smile. “Maybe you just haven’t found the right partner to dance with, yet.”

He doesn’t realize she’s holding out her hand to the side until someone walks up, grabs it, and spins her out onto the dance floor in a smooth manner.

“I’ll tell you what, girl knows how to exit a conversation,” Laurel remarks as everyone follows her around the dance floor, grinning up at a dark haired man with broad shoulders. They exchange a kiss and keep dancing, moving to the music.

“I’m assuming she knows him?” Tommy asks Oliver, curious.

“Yeah,” Thea supplies instead, “that’s her boyfriend from Central City.”

“Oh yeah. I met him. At the uh…” Laurel makes a face, trying to remember. “I think it was the Children’s hospital gala? He seems like a great guy. Very funny.”

Just then, Felicity tilts her head back in laughter, eyes glittering as the man grins at her response. A strange stab in his chest causes Oliver to turn his attention away from his co-worker to the approach of Ray Palmer.

“Oliver, glad to see you again,” Ray reaches out a hand, shaking heartily. “I hope you don’t mind that I’m stealing Felicity for a couple weeks. Our IT department tends to churn out better results when she’s there to challenge them and we’re trying to roll out the next gen firewall.”

“I heard she cracked in in less than five minutes,” Oliver states with a hint of smugness as Digg walks up, holding a plate of hors d’oeuvres. Ray frowns, shrugging his shoulders.

“Which is exactly why she needs to come back. It’s okay though. I’m providing Troy Parker and Sven Orrlson in her place. They’re exceptional.”

“Wait, why are you sending two guys to fill her space?” Tommy glances at Oliver, not getting the math. “Two for the price of one? So because she’s so awesome, you need two people to do what Felicity does.” 

Ray shoves his hands in his pockets. “In their defense, they aren’t actual geniuses, like Felicity. They did go to school with her, however. Sven and Troy are always together anyway. Don’t bother learning who’s who. They’re more of a collective entity.”

Oliver glances where Ray is pointing to the side of the room where two gentlemen stand in their metrosexual suits with skinny pant legs, skinnier ties, and way too much hair gel and questionable eyewear.

“Is he wearing sunglasses?” Laurel blurts without thinking. Digg muffles a chuckle as he steps back, spying shrimp cocktail. Oliver rolls his eyes, turning back to Ray.

“As long as Felicity comes back, I’m good. We have a very fluid working partnership. I wouldn’t want to ruin all our handwork,” Oliver replies succinctly, hoping he doesn’t betray his inner turmoil. He didn’t realize until that morning how much he’s come to reply upon Felicity. She’d breezed into his office with two cups of coffee and cracking wise. Though he acted unaffected, the thought of coming to work without seeing her was imminently unpleasant, among other things.

“Don’t worry. I think she’s just as invested in this venture as you are,” Ray replies, giving Oliver a shrewd look. Before he can continue further, he’s cut short by a hand sliding around his torso. He swings his arm around to a tall, beautiful woman who gives them all a bright smile.

“This is my fiancé, Anna.”

“Nice to meet all of you. I’ve heard so much about many of you,” she replies, glancing around at the group. “Let me guess, you must be Laurel and Tommy?” 

The pair share surprised looks and then turn back to Anna, concerned. 

“Don’t worry. Felicity has told me about all of you. I figured you were Laurel because you really are gorgeous. She calls you _Gorgeous Laurel_ whenever she mentions you. And then Tommy… I’ve never been able to say I’ve seen mischievous eyes, but goodness. You have them.”

Before she can go continue, she’s sideswiped by a blonde tornado. “Annnnnnnnnnnnna! I didn’t know you were coming!”

“I wanted to surprise you, Sunshine!”

Felicity pulls away from Anna, beaming brightly and Oliver believes the moniker is quite possibly the most appropriate he’s ever heard. “I don’t know if I can handle having all my favorite people in one place. My heart might actually explode.”

Against his better judgement Oliver lets out a soft chuckle as the two women go back and forth, talking a  mile a minute and wrapping everyone in a warm bubble of contentment. Glancing at Thea, he sees her grinning as the two women go back and forth as though part of a comedy duo, not stopping for a second. When they finally take a break, the gentleman standing beside Felicity finally introduces himself to the group.

“Hi, I’m Jacob,” he says, sliding his hand around Felicity’s waist in a familiar manner. It isn’t even territorial, just seeking out the place it seems most comfortable. He shakes hands with everyone as Felicity lists off names as he goes. 

Oliver reaches out and detects a firm, solid grip but receives only a cursory look when exchanging greetings. Jacob is an inch or so shorter than Oliver, but is obviously well built and holds himself with excellent posture. When not watching Felicity with a stupid grin on his face, his eyes are always roaming the crowd in a way that Oliver suspects the man is in law enforcement or security. 

_Interesting_. Oliver wonders how much Felicity talks about him to her boyfriend, if at all. By the way Anna scrutinizes his entire being, he figures Anna gets more of the story from Felicity.

“How did you and Felicity meet?” Tommy asks Anna, more curious about the darker, equally charismatic version of Felicity than her boyfriend. 

Anna smiles at Tommy and glances briefly at Felicity who shrugs. “We knew each other while living in Cambridge, but didn’t really _know_ know each other until working together at Wayne Enterprises. I was her department head in IT before Lucius snatched her up.”

“I’d say he made me a deal I couldn’t refuse,” Felicity replies smoothly, running her hand down her dress, before sliding it into Jacob’s. 

“Well yeah, having an unlimited budget and free reign with all the tech at your grasp sounds like a sweet deal,” Anna says offhandedly, then flinching as she replays her words. “I feel like your lack of filter has rubbed off on me in the _worst_ way.”

“I dunno, Anna,” Jacob says as he tugs Felicity closer to his side. “Your lack of filter is easy one of your more endearing traits.”

“You’re just saying that because you haven’t played against her in ultimate frisbee and suffered at her hands,” Ray states as he hands her a flute of champagne. Oliver has no idea what Ultimate frisbee is.

“Hey, I will have you know, that guy dislocated his shoulder all on his own, thankyouverymuch,” Anna retorts. “Besides, Felicity is the one that took us to the championships.”

“I heard about this mysterious championship game,” Thea states, edging closer. “Felicity mentioned something about some girl losing part of her weave?”

“Oh God, I forgot about that,” Anna grins, looking nostalgic. “Obviously I’m not the smallest girl, like my pint sized little bucket of gold, over here,” she squeezes Felicity by the shoulders. “So yeah, I was sprinting down the field and this hulking he-woman —“

“Hold on,” Jacob interrupts with a faint accent, possibly Scottish. “Let me set this up before you all get the wrong idea. Palmer Tech was going head to head with Wayne. Ray was there to basically steal —“ he stops with Felicity’s elbow in his gut. “Sorry, _acquire_ some professional ladypower. Someone mentions frisbee then one thing leads to another and there’s a whole group of employees being shuttled to Gotham for this giant tournament. The hulking he-woman you’re referring to, Anna - is one of the leading research analysts in aerospace development and is due to be returning from the international space station any day now. I’m pretty sure she plans on a rematch, by the way.”

“Perfect. Her muscles will be atrophied by her time in space,” Felicity shoots back, siding with Anna. “What Jacob was saying was that we had this giant Ultimate Frisbee tournament and because none of us fight clean it got physical real fast.”

“Sorry, what is Ultimate Frisbee?” Oliver inquires, completely lost. The blank looks everyone gives him takes everyone a moment to catch up until Felicity speaks up. 

“I keep forgetting you completely lack about five years of pop anything.”

“But Ultimate predated his departure,” Tommy replies. “Ollie, even I played Ultimate. Was that when you’d done that six month vacation to the tropics while pretending to be at Yale?”

Oliver gives Tommy a withering look “Sure. _Thomas._ ” That was code for _shut your goddamn mouth, you’re ruining my game._

“Anyway…” Thea states before things can get out of hand, “maybe we should start a QC team, Ollie. You’d be amazing at it.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Oliver replies, trying to ignore the way Jacob leans in and whispers into Felicity’s ear. Of course, everything is broken up when Digg appears with an entire tray of pilfered bacon wrapped dates stuffed with cheese. 

“John Diggle, you are a king among men,” Felicity states as she reaches out and takes a sample. “If you ever want a personalized computer, just let me know.”

“Wow, you must be special if Felicity is willing to make you a computer,” Anna states knowingly. “I mean, even having _tree trunk_ arms — oof,” she stops as Felicity hip checks her. “Sorry. Felicity will make you an excellent device fit for all your daily browsing and word processing needs.”

Jacob and Ray exchange a long suffering look and Oliver wonders if this is the life of two men who love these women. There are worse fates…

“Ooooh, great song!” Anna turns to Ray. “Come on. You owe me a dance!”

In a sweep of color and movement, they are out on the floor. Laurel turns to Tommy in short order, “She’s right you know. This is a great song.”

“Lead the way, my lady. I wouldn’t want this beautiful dress to go to waste,” Tommy replies, completely smitten. Felicity and Oliver exchange a look, rolling their eyes at the couple. But before she can even say anything, she’s pulled back to the dance floor, into the arms of her boyfriend.

“I feel dizzy,” Roy states as he grips Thea’s hand. 

“Yeah, Felicity has that effect on people,” Oliver replies, eyes still glued to the blonde. 

“I think the combination of her and Anna is a world of trouble. You’re lucky Anna won’t leave Palmer tech,” Digg states as Anna calls for a partner switch and Felicity moves in front of Ray, curtseying to his bow before grasping his hands.

“That’s how you and Tommy used to be, you know,” Thea says quietly. “Not that there’s anything wrong with how you are now, but you were, reasonably so, much more lighthearted.”

Oliver turns his gaze to his best friend, dancing with who Oliver thought was the love of his life. “I think we’ve both grown up though, Speedy. Not just me.”

“Yeah it’s just that sometimes…” she hesitates, glancing at the ground, “sometimes it’s your reaction to adversity, not _what_ you overcame, that defines you. I mean… granted Felicity wasn’t stuck on an island for five years but she’s certainly known hardship. And look at her now —“

At that exact moment Felicity is twirling around with Anna, head thrown back, breathless with laughter as her boss and boyfriend look on at their antics. Oliver is so captivated by the sight of utter abandon that he barely hears his sister.

“You can be happy, Ollie. You just have to _let_ yourself.”

.::.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I forgot what it's like being in a large fandom where people actually review. Thank you all for the wonderful comments. I hope you enjoyed this chap!


	4. quattro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sorry! Didn’t mean to knock off your face. It’s a good face. Great, even. "

“Oh, thank God you’re back,” Oliver ‘Thundercloud of Doom’ Queen sighs into his chair at the head of the boardroom table, unbuttoning his suit jacket. “This place has been a nightmare without you.”

From her seat at the opposite end, Felicity gives him a small smile, coupled with a dubious look. “Somehow, I think that’s an exaggeration.”

“No, it’s not,” Digg replies from his position near the glass door. “I bet even Mrs. Queen will be happy to see you back.”

Eyebrows darting upward, Felicity glances at Oliver who nods emphatically. Before she can reply, several members start trickling in, all giving her various greetings of, ‘Welcome back!’ and ‘We missed you here.’ She smiles and nods at each one, clearly perplexed as to what occurred during her absence. Sven and Troy had nothing but good things to say when they debriefed her the previous evening. Mouthing ‘Later’, Oliver turns his attention to the CFO as she starts the brief.

Oliver sneaks glances over at Felicity during the meeting as she types notes and idly taps her pen on her notepad. She’s focused and attentive like always, asking pertinent questions and providing solid feedback to various department heads. Oliver does much of the same, having unconsciously picked up certain traits from Felicity. Sure, she may be his business competition, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t learn from her.

Diggle notices this, however he wouldn’t dare bring it to the younger man’s attention. Just like he wouldn’t dare point out that Felicity was leaving again in ten days for another trip. He’d let —

“What do you mean you’re going to China?” Oliver frowns, displeased. The three of them have moved to his office to go over her estimates for a side R&D project. “How is this partnership supposed to work if my partner is never here?”

The silence lapses long enough for both of them to realize what he said, far too late to take back the words as Felicity’s head falls to the side, hand perched cheerfully on her waist.

“You think I’m your partner?” she grins at him, slow and steady, growing larger as he doesn’t even try to deny it. “ _You_ think _I_ am your partner! Oh this is excellent. Can we get matching costumes for Halloween? I’m your daytime partner and Digg is your nighttime partner!” the three of them flinch as her words settle.

“Not that kind of —“ she shakes her head, clearing her throat as Digg takes a step away from Oliver, both of them crossing their arms in a very manly, intimidating way. “Wow, the way you two did that in perfect synchrony, just…”

Oliver cuts her off. “When do you go to China?”

“Not for a couple months. It was supposed to happen sooner, like ten days from now, but Ray and I are doing some internal restructuring in order to preserve jobs.”

This seems to appease Oliver long enough to remove his coat and start rolling up his shirt sleeves. Digg views this as Oliver’s ‘I have work to do’ preparation and takes his leave from the pair. Felicity slides into the chair opposite, mumbling something about theme songs and capes. It’s only when Oliver lets out a huff of a laugh that Digg realizes that having Felicity back is perhaps more important than any of them realize.

.::.

Late one night at Verdant, or early rather, Oliver slides onto a bar stool next to Tommy, reaching over the counter for a glass as Tommy pours two fingers of Scotch. Bleary-eyed, Tommy puts his chin on the counter, spinning his tumbler around. 

“Everything is shit.”

Oliver doesn’t bother to reply, knowing Tommy just needs to vent. 

“My father is an asshole. Laurel doesn't know if she still wants to be my  _girlfriend_. And you? YOU run around the city shooting arrows into people.”

Tommy found out the truth about Oliver in the worst possible way, at a huge gala where multiple lives were put in danger, including Laurel’s.

“One of those is debatable, Tommy,” Oliver states, sipping his Scotch.

“The part about my dad? No, he’s an asshat wrapped in a douchebag suit, stuffed in a sociopath wrapping box.”

Oliver nods slowly, in full agreement. “For someone so drunk, you’re strangely articulate.”

Letting out a puff of laughter Tommy turns to Oliver, eyes watery from drink and sorrow. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see what my best friend needed,” Oliver replies. “That and to tell you that Laurel is safely at her apartment, waiting for you to come home.”

“Ha. Right. Okay, sure. Is that true?” Tommy watches Oliver closely, his voice taking on a new edge. “Because I’m pretty sure I saw you with your arms wrapped around my girlfriend a couple hours ago.”

“Tommy —“

“Shut your mouth!” Tommy pushes off the stool, slightly manic. “Save it, Ollie. I don’t want to hear it if you’re just going to lie.”

“No lies.”

“None? Really?” Tommy paces. “Then fine. Tell me this: How many people have you killed? Huh? How many?”

“Tommy —“

“HOW MANY?”

“Thirty four!”

The resounding silence between them falls heavy and oppressive. Tommy pales, jaw falling slack in disbelief as he takes a step back.  His look of complete and utter disappointment mixed with disgust are enough for Oliver to catch his breath. 

“ _Who_ are you?”

When the door to the club slams shut, Oliver exhales, whispering to no one: “I wish I knew.”

.::.

A couple weeks later, Oliver shows up to Felicity’s apartment unannounced on a Wednesday night. Oliver glances around as she tells him to make himself comfortable, taking in everything she deemed important enough to bring with her to Starling City the first time around. There are a couple art pieces as well as framed pictures. He’s surprised to see a picture of her sitting at a table in what appears to be a diner, smiling brightly at the camera as she sits beside Bruce Wayne and several others, looking as casual as a black and white Vanity Fair cover shoot.

“Alright, so here’s the deal: first rule of fight club is DO NOT interrupt the show. I don’t care if bullets are flying and bodies are dropping. Streaming web content exists so consumers can indulge in unhealthy viewing habits and create dependency on tv shows.”

Oliver blinks at her as she drops unceremoniously into a large overstuffed deep purple chair, definitely something she brought with her. 

“What if I need to use the restroom?”

“Oliver Queen.” Eyes narrowed, she sighs at him and points down the hall. “Do your business right now. You have approximately 60 seconds.”

Oliver hops up, knowing she means business. “Okay, okay. But when I come back, at least explain the premise of the show.”

He pads down the hall towards her guest bathroom, ducking inside briefly. He doesn't really need to pee, but he certainly needs to question his motives in coming here. Initially it was to request help decrypting not one, but three different things. But then she’d opened her door wearing a hoodie, flannel pants, and a messy bun, looking like her actual age of huggable innocence and definitely not in the mood to assist with his night job. 

She’s been kinder lately, somehow sensing the strife he’s suffering in his friendships with both Tommy and Laurel. When she opened her door earlier, she didn’t hesitate too offer him a spoon, then waved the pint of mint chocolate chip in front of his face, and winked — practically luring him inside. Ten seconds later he had agreed to a marathon and was being told to decide between Battlestar Galactica and Dr. Who.

Now, Oliver stares at himself in the mirror, not even bothering to figure out why he agreed to stay, then washes his hands for no good reason and returns to the living room. He settles back down on the couch as Felicity leans over and pulls the blanket off the back, swiping him in the face.

“Whoops!” She makes an apologetic face. ‘Sorry! Didn’t mean to knock off your face. It’s a good face. Great, even. I just… this is my BSG blanket.”

“Your what now?”

“See this?” She holds up a corner of a quilted lap throw made out of t-shirts. “Back in 2007, I won tickets from a local radio station to go to Comic Con, which… is like heaven for geeks. They had a Battlestar Panel and I got this t-shirt,” she points to one with ‘Frak Yeah’ printed on the front, “signed by the cast that was present. AND! I met Admiral Adama. It was truly… a _magical_ time.”

Oliver can’t help but laugh at her complete geek out over the actor. “And _you_ are entrusted with representing a Fortune 500 company?”

“Hey, at least I never peed on a cop car,” she shoots back without thinking. She frowns, casting him a side glance. “Sorry. Low blow.”

“How’d you even find out about that?”

“If it’s on the internet, I can find it.”

“And you’ve looked me up? On the internet?”

“Of course,” Felicity replies sensibly. “I had to know what I was getting into. Especially after our inauspicious beginning.”

“Which I’m still sorry about, by the way.”

“I know, I know. Just… listen, we’ve both come a long way since then. Right, _partner_?” she holds out her pint of mint chocolate chip as she says the words, causing him to nod in agreement. He takes the pint and scoops a large spoonful, knowing how quickly she can kill a pint.

She turns from him and focuses her attention on the television, pushing play as the show starts up in earnest.  “Why’d you come by, anyway?”

Oliver glances over, her gaze fixed too carefully on the screen. “I’ll tell you later. It can wait.”

So he settles in for a long night of Cylons and nine colonies and listening to Felicity fawn over Apollo and Starbuck. And for the first time in a long time, he feels safe, he feels comfortable in no expectations being placed upon him, and feels the strong pull of camaraderie. 

At least, that's what he thinks it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTdub: I write a chapter in an hour like the original premise, but then spend like... three fretting over finite details. So there's that.  
> Also, it was a toss up between Oliver 'Thundercloud of Doom' Queen, and Oliver "Manpain" Queen. meh.  
> Thanks for reading.


	5. cinque

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Look at you two with your tank tops and your bulging arms. Next time, I demand to be escorted by way of bicep chariot."

There’s something about the sweltering heat that summer, humid and soul crushing.

It’s the kind of hot where air conditioning won’t quite cut it. Perhaps sitting in a meat locker would suffice, but Oliver doesn’t have one of those in his apartment. Late Tuesday evening after both Oliver and Diggle agreed to set aside any patrolling, Oliver arrives at Verdant. The club is closed Tuesdays, which allows Tommy the chance to restock and have the place industrially cleaned. He climbs the stairs two at a time, stopping when he finds Tommy staring at a spreadsheet with glazed over eyes.

“What? No former employees to arrow?” Tommy attempts a sneer but it’s weakhearted at best.

Ignoring the dig, Oliver pushes ahead. “The only thing happening right now is the ridiculous heat. Come by my place tonight. Thea made dinner. We can hit up the pool after.”

“Let me guess, she made spaghetti, and since it’s impossible to properly proportion pasta, she told you to invite everyone you’ve ever met.”

“Close. Capellini Pomodoro.” Oliver tugs off his tie and undoes the top two buttons. “C’mon. The books will keep.”

With a dramatic sigh, Tommy saves his work and heaves himself out of his chair, his t-shirt clinging to his back with sweat. They climb into Tommy’s convertible and drive to Oliver’s in silence, only talking when Oliver inquires about Laurel.

“Give her a call, see what she’s up to,” Oliver scrolls through Tommy’s list of contacts on his central console, dialing Laurel before Tommy can say no. Five minutes later, Laurel agrees to come by, surprising both men.

“Huh,” Tommy makes a curious face at his companion. “That’s weird. I tried to get breakfast with her the other day and she begged off. What’s up, Ollie?”

“I think she doesn’t want to get between us. Which… I assured her I have absolutely no feelings for her because of... things —“ Oliver trails off. Tommy tracks Oliver’s gaze. They’re stopped at a light near his building, watching as traffic passes. There’s a familiar blonde ponytail swinging as a female with toned legs jogs toward the crosswalk, preparing to cross.

“Hey, Felicity!” Tommy yells as the light turns green and he rolls his car up beside her, but she can’t hear due to her headphones. “FELICITY!” 

Oliver frowns at him, punching Tommy in the arm. “Ouch, Ollie! What’s your deal man!?”

Spotting the car finally, Felicity stops jogging, pulling an earphone out and glances at the two. Based on the amount of sweat coating her and the state of her tank top, Oliver thinks she’s been running for a few miles at least. Though, it’s hard to tell in this heat, but then again her legs —

“Oliver? You okay there?” she’s smiling at him, head tilted to the side as she catches him staring.  

“Forgive him, I think he’s got heat exhaustion,” Tommy grins. “So we’ll see you in an hour?”

“Yeah, sure,” Felicity nods, placing her earphone back in her ear and continuing on down the block. Oliver can’t rip his eyes away, watching her smooth, efficient stride. If only he looked over and saw the shit-eating grin on Tommy’s face, he’d have known how this night was going to be.

Approximately 45 minutes later, Oliver is starting to flip out. In a controlled, serious manner, of course.

“What did you tell her we were doing, exactly?” Oliver blurts to Tommy, both gathered at the bar as Thea stands at the stove.

“I just said that we were having some food and relaxing,” Tommy replies, giving Oliver a strange look. “By the way you’re acting, you’d think —“

“Don’t —“ Oliver cuts him off. “We have a very strong working relationship, one of the few I haven’t screwed up yet. I don’t want her getting the wrong idea.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have been ogling her earlier, man.”

Before Oliver can reply, the doorbell rings. Oliver opens it to find Laurel and her co-worker Erika on the other side. “Welcome ladies, I hope you brought your suits.”

Laurel rolls her eyes at Oliver, leaning up for a cheek kiss. “Good to see you too. Where’s Tommy?”

“Bar. Making mojitos.” Oliver glances at Erika who’s looking around the penthouse. “Everything alright?”

She starts for a moment, glancing back at Oliver. “Yes, but where’s tall, dark and handsome who’s always with you?”

“Erika!” Laurel shakes her head, grabbing her friend’s hand. “Ignore her. She has a crush on Diggle.”

Before Oliver can step away from the door, there’s a knock, revealing Felicity dressed in cutoff jean shorts, a tank top, and flip flops, clearly just out of the shower. “Sorry, I’m a mess. I think I’m still sweating, even though I took a shower. Running in this heat was not my best idea.”

“No, you’re fine,” Oliver replies, trying to ignore the thought of her in the shower. “We’re all hanging out in the kitchen. Thea’s trying a new recipe.”

“The capellini pomodoro?”

Oliver glances at her, confused. “How’d you know?”

“Because those bea-u-ti-ful tomatoes we’re about to enjoy are from my rooftop garden,” Felicity replies as they close in on the kitchen. Thea turns and beams at Felicity, wrapping an arm around her as they being chatting. Oliver watches them, slightly miffed, but returns to conversation with Tommy and the others. Digg shows up a couple minutes later, waving at everyone but giving Oliver a strange look when he spots Felicity in the kitchen with Thea.

Dinner is a splendid affair, the group is jovial despite the heat. When mention of the rooftop pool is made, many brighten at the prospect and soon after gorging on delicious pasta, they reassemble upstairs in swimming attire.

The only two to sit out are Oliver and Felicity. Oliver — because his torso is littered with scars and Felicity, because she didn’t bring her suit. Or… at least that’s what she says. 

“You sure you don’t want to run back and grab your suit?” Oliver asks as he takes a seat beside her at the edge of the pool. “It’s a shame we forgot to tell you.”

“Nope, I’m good.” Felicity swings her legs back and forth in the water. “This is perfect. I will grant you Queen, your pool up here is nicer.”

“Yeah, but we don’t have a rooftop garden,” Oliver looks around, trying to size up the potential for one. “Maybe over there? Not sure.”

“Well, I bet you don’t have a nude sunbather on your communal rooftop, either.” Felicity grins as she sips her mojito.

“A what now?”

“Some old guy with crater skin and saggy parts always drops his britches when I’m up there. I’m pretty sure he’s waiting to see when I’ll report him.”

Oliver scowls, completely aghast. “Felicity, that’s —“

“Is he bald? Giant mermaid tattoo on his left forearm?” Laurel interjects as she glides by. 

“Yeah, you know him?”

“Yeah, that’s Old Merle Johnson. Richer than sin and the dirtiest sonuvabitch I’ve ever met. Has a thing for public indecency. We’ve booked him, but it’s never gone to trial.”

Felicity leans back on her hands, frowning. “Well. That’s… not good news.”

“Felicity,” Digg swims closer, “If that guy ever does it again. Call me and Oliver. We’ll take care of him.”

She smiles at Digg, nodding in acquiescence. Moments later a loud splash coats both Oliver and Felicity as Tommy’s balled up body sinks to the bottom of the pool, shooting up gleefully.

“Oh, you are so dead, Merlyn!” Oliver yells as he wipes the water off his face, shaking out his hair. Felicity appears to be unsurprised by this, but equally menacing as she mock-scowls at Tommy. 

“Very dead,” she echoes.

“Well,” Tommy grins back, “it’s not like you can do anything about it, can you, Queen?”

Oliver narrows his eyes, realizing his sister is also no longer in the pool just as he turns to see her aiming her super-deluxe nerf water gun at him and Felicity.

“Speedy,” Oliver starts just as she unleashes holy terror on the pair.

“Surrender!”

“Never!” Oliver grabs his sister by the waist and tosses her like a wet rag into the pool. Unfortunately his distraction cost him Felicity as he hears a squeal and a splash, turning to see Felicity breaking the surface. 

“Tommy Merlyn, you better hope your firewall is as strong as you say it is!”

“Is that a threat, Miss Felicity?” He grins as he jumps in behind her. “Because I’m pretty sure I can take you.”

“Oh Tommy, Tommy, Tommy,” she shakes her head, wading in the water. “You have absolutely no idea what I’m capable of.”

While Oliver could spend all night watching Tommy and Felicity go back and forth, he has revenge to seek. He dives under the water and shoots like a torpedo toward Tommy, tugging him under swiftly. They wrestle underwater, each resorting to childhood antics of seeing who can hold their breath longer until Speedy starts tickling Oliver’s feet.

“No fair,” Oliver growls. “Why are you teaming up with Tommy!? You made me swallow half the pool.”

“Aw, is poor Ollie sad that Tommy beat you at your submarine game?” Laurel jokes as she and Erika glide around on floats.

“Submarine game?” Felicity repeats, looking at Oliver in question.

“We used to pretend we were subs, holding our breath and zipping around the bottom of the pool.”

With another yelp and splash, Laurel’s float tips sideways as Tommy pushes it away, beaming as Laurel shoots up and slaps him lightly on the chest. “I’m with Felicity. You are so going to pay.”

The evening quickly dissolves into childhood swimming games late into the evening until they are floating prunes and exhausted. When the crew moves inside, the air conditioning is a blast of frigid that is almost unwelcome, but not quite. 

“Felicity, come up to my room,” Thea calls as she makes her way up stairs. “I’ll give you a change of clothes to wear home.”

Felicity follows her upstairs as everyone else goes to change, Tommy grinning as he follows Laurel into the bathroom, shutting the door quickly. Oliver towels off his hair and makes his way upstairs as he hears his sister’s shower running. He changes quickly and exits his room, glancing absently into Thea’s room as he does so. The door is cracked enough that he can see Felicity’s bare back in the reflection of the mirror just inside the room. It’s not the sight of her skin that draws him to a pause, but the network of scars on her back, very similar to his own. She then moves away, but the image is seared into his mind.

A minute later she joins him downstairs with her clothes rolled up under her arm, wearing a casual sundress that looks beautiful on her.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to walk you home, make sure you get there alright,” Oliver says as he walks up to her.

Head quirked, she gives him a strange look. “I live like… right across the street.”

Before he can reply, Digg emerges from one of the guest rooms. “Felicity, want me to walk you home? It’s pretty late.”

Felicity glances between them both, eyes narrowing. “Alright, what’s up? Is there someone in my building you two are after?”

Oliver can’t help the way his eyes slide over to Diggle, who doesn’t even bother with coming up with an excuse. “Yes. Seventh floor. Opposite end. Drives a minivan that has a false floor so he can smuggle crazy amounts of heroin.”

She doesn’t even blink. “Fine, fine. Lead the way, gentlemen.”

As they cross the street, Oliver can’t help but examine Felicity’s back for an inch of marred skin peaking out. He wonders how he never noticed before. She catches him looking at her but says nothing as she tugs a strand of curling hair behind her ear. Felicity signs both of them into her building with Ross the security guard who eyes Digg’s biceps with a combination of fear and envy. 

When the elevator door closes, she grins at their reflection in the elevator doors. “Look at you two with your tank tops and your bulging arms. Next time, I demand to be escorted by way of bicep chariot. You’re both ridiculous.”

For the first time in a long time, a laugh bubbles up from deep within Oliver as he exchanges a look with Digg who is equally amused, chuckling quietly.

When they get to her door, they wait silently as she unlocks it and pushes her way inside. “I’d offer you both a drink, but you know… justice must be served. Thanks for an excellent evening, boys.”

She reaches up and plants a kiss on Digg’s cheek and another on Oliver’s than drops back on her heels and waves before shutting the door. Oliver avoids Digg’s gaze as he contemplates whether or not her cheeks were pink when she shut her door. 

He definitely doesn’t think about the warmth on his cheek from where she pressed her lips against his skin. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Bicep chariot" is coined by EBR. Thanks for reading. Also, this was a plotless chapter, mainly bc next two are intenseeeee.


	6. six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver isn't a rocket scientist, but he's starting to understand the link between Wayne and Batman.

It's mid-week in late summer when it happens. The proverbial shit hitting the fan.

All the executives are in their bi-weekly meeting, which has become more efficient as both Oliver and Felicity have trained the department heads to stop pontificating and only update on legitimate progress. It's been one of the best changes with those meetings. That and the scones.

The CFO is discussing deadlines for the departments to submit quarterly reports when several things happen all at once. Felicity's phone, which is always absent of noise during these meetings, makes an alarming, emergent tone. She jerks up in her chair, startled. Her face pales upon looking at the screen just as the doors open and in rush both Digg and Oliver's frazzled EA.

"Sorry for the interruption, everyone." Digg states calmly, however Oliver can see the tension written in his features. Digg walks to Felicity who's already risen to collect her tablet and coffee. Digg grabs her coat and places a steady hand on her arm as they walk out the door.

"I apologize for the disruption. Something's come up and I need to make a few phone calls," Felicity offers the group of bewildered executives while ignoring the ringing from her phone.

Oliver stands as well, needing to know what's going on. "Alright, let's take five everyone. Be back shortly."

When he enters the corridor, there is a small posse of people, many of whom he's never met. All he recognizes is Felicity's EA who looks like he's freaking out. Unfortunately, Felicity is already on the phone, talking very quickly in a language he doesn't understand. German, maybe?

"You want to tell me what's going on?" Oliver asks as Digg turns and points to the television. It's a news station broadcasting live footage of Arkham Maximum Security Penitentiary with a gigantic hole in the side and fire climbing out of several windows. "What does that have to do with Felicity?”

As if hearing him, the newscaster relays, "Authorities believe that this attack on the prison was orchestrated by The Joker, who was housed in the Asylum adjacent to the facility and has escaped with several other high-profile inmates. He was incarcerated without parole four years ago after bombing several busy areas around Gotham, but most notably for the kidnap and torture of well-known Wayne Enterprises Employee and Philanthropist, Felicity Smoak, who later escaped. The current whereabouts of The Joker are unknown at this time."

The blood rushes to Oliver's head as he turns to Felicity who looks angry as she separates from the group to continue her conversation down the hall away from the others. When his head clears he focuses solely on her just as she says loudly, "No! I don't need your protection, Bruce! I need you to find the goddamn bastard and kill him this time. Let's be done with this once and for all."

Jerry, Felicity's EA weaves through the crowd and hands Oliver a cell phone, "It's Mr. Palmer. He wants to speak with you."

Oliver takes the call, keeping his eyes on Felicity the entire time. "Ray."

"How is she? Is she okay? How does she look?"

"She's fine. She's speaking with Wayne now. She seems... angry."

Ray let's out an audible breath. "Yes they have... differing opinions on her security. Has he already threatened to send the jet for her?"

"Jet? Why -"

"Oliver, you've got to understand something: Bruce blames himself for what happened to her. Which... isn't completely unfounded. Still, he's going to try to take her somewhere safe."

"You don't think I can keep her safe!?" Oliver frowns, not liking the implication.

"It has nothing to do with you. But with all due respect, you don't have the likes of The Joker in your city. The man is... as sadist without conscience. A deviant. He seeks out cruelty. Thrives off it even. He's a deranged lunatic and he's fixated on Felicity."

Oliver bites his lip, wishing that he'd taken five minutes just to read over what had happened to her in the past. Just five measly minutes. "Can you... can you tell me anything about what happened?”

The hesitation in Palmer's reply is enough to make Oliver regret asking. There's some shuffling and then the sound of a door shutting, Ray's voice quiet and muffled. "Look, Felicity doesn't ever talk about it. I can tell you that he kept her for three weeks, that he tortured her in various ways that can only be created by a madman. And I can tell you that she escaped by sheer will power and stubbornness. Apparently she saved up weeks of urine and waited until he came to do some more electro-shock torture and doused him in it then electrocuted him. All I know is when she was taken into custody, she had a dislocated shoulder, her leg was broken in three places and she was covered in cuts and bruises. Oh, and all her nails were missing."

Oliver swallows. This is bad. So very bad. 

"Oliver? Are you still there?”

"Yes, sorry. I just... I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything. Just be quiet and support her. We have a bad storm right now, but once it clears I'm flying in later this afternoon with Jacob. All you need to do is get her somewhere safe and... oh, don't sneak up on her or you'll end up with a black eye. Actually, don't touch her either. Right now, she's going to shut everyone out, so don't force her to talk to you. It won't go over well. That's one of many reasons she doesn't work with Bruce anymore."

Ending the call, Oliver walks over to Jerry and grabs the bottle of water he has clenched in his grasp, staring at Felicity as she paces. "Do me a favor, block the rest of her day and cancel the rest of her meetings for the week. If we need anything else, Digg will text you later with instructions.”

Nodding, Jerry walks in front of Felicity motioning toward the elevator to which she acknowledges with mouthing a 'thank you' then turning away from the group again. She ends the call shortly thereafter and keeps her head bowed, back ramrod straight, breathing deeply. When she turns around, she looks straight at him with an inscrutable expression on her face and motions to the nearby restroom. Once she's inside, the escape plan is made with Digg and the security team while Oliver cancels the meeting and instructs all personnel be on high alert over the next few days.

Felicity emerges ten minutes later, eyes red-rimmed, but otherwise looking no different. Oliver hands her the bottle of water silently as he leads her to the executive elevator with Digg behind them. The ride in the elevator is quiet and tense, the only sound is the ding of passing floors. Once they reach the garage, they walk to an inconspicuous SUV and climb inside.

"I sent the decoy vic ahead ten minutes earlier. The press has mostly died down outside," Digg states as he drives them toward the exit, another security car behind them. "Felicity, you've got three options for a safe house. Location A, B, or C. Which would you prefer?"

"B," she replies, gaze fixed out the window. Oliver doesn't bother looking away as she twists off and on the bottle cap repeatedly on her bottle. Her nails are painted bright yellow, be he has no way of knowing if they're real or fake. He looks at her hands and sees faint lines, uncertain if they're scars or not. Her phone rings again, this time an image of Jacob pops up on her phone. 

She takes in a breath then answers.  "Hey, Babe."

Oliver doesn't mean to eavesdrop, but he can hear everything Jacob is saying, so he listens anyway. "How are you?"

"I'm fi—"

"Don't say fine, Felicity. Use your words. Tell me how you feel."

She clenches the bottle tighter, clenching her teeth. "I feel like an elephant is sitting on my chest. And I feel like everything is spinning. I feel... I feel really fucking angry."

"Good job, that was great," Jacob replies. "Are you sitting?"

"Yes. I have my water."

"Perfect. Work on your breathing, just like we do after the nightmares. Then finish your water. Text me in thirty minutes with how you feel. If you don't, I'm calling you back."

"K." 

"Ray and I will be there once the weather clears. I love you so very much, Felicity. Don't you forget that. Okay?"

"I love you too," she whispers as she stares down in her lap. Oliver feels a strange pang in his chest not at her words, but at the brittleness in her tone. It strikes him then how small she truly is, how by her sheer presence alone, he forgets that she's so young and petite.

Several minutes later, Oliver breaks and slowly reaches his hand over and with only a pinky, runs his finger along her wrist, causing her to look over at him. He raises his eyebrows and takes a deep breath and holds it, urging her to do the same. For the next several minutes, they sit in the backseat breathing, unaware that Digg is doing the exact same thing.

.::.

After they emerge from a tunnel, Digg takes a left on a small road that eventually gives way to gravel, lined with small brush. After turning a curve, Oliver spots a decent sized farm house on the opposite side of a beautiful lake. If they weren't going under such unpleasant circumstances, Oliver would almost be excited at the prospect of spending some time with two of his closest friends.

"This is an ARGUS safe house. The only person aware of us at this location is an old friend of mine. She'll arrive shortly with supplies and a change of clothes for us all."

Felicity nods but says nothing else as they exit the vehicle, following them down the small gravel path. They heed Digg's instructions to be careful where they step as there are mines surrounding the house. Though the outside is nothing impressive, once inside Oliver is surprised to find it well furnished and equipped with state of the art appliances and surveillance.

Digg shows them to their rooms, informing them of the thick bulletproof glass windows as well as the panic room situated between their rooms that can be accessed through their closets. 

“There’s enough food in there for hiding out for two weeks. There’s actually enough food in this house for hiding out for six.” Digg says as they continue to inspect their spaces. “I’ll leave you two to get settled. Lyla just texted me, she’s forty minutes out. Felicity, there’s a wifi network available. I’ll warn you though, it is owned by ARGUS, so they won’t take kindly if you go sniffing around in their network.”

“Got it. Play nice with others,” she replies as she slides out of her coat. “I’ll see you both in a little while. I have some stuff to take care of.”

It takes everything within Oliver not to insist she keep her door open, but he decides that knowing her location is as good as it will get right now. The bedroom is built for function, but the bed is comfortable and there’s a fancy computer sitting on the desk. Doing his due diligence, he removes his coat and tie, rolls up his shirt sleeves, and settles in to learn a little more about the woman next door.

Felicity Smoak, recruited by Wayne Enterprises while a freshman at M.I.T. She began working full time for the company by the age of twenty after earning her Master’s Degree. She excelled under the guidance of Lucious Fox, her mentor and surrogate father. Little is mentioned of her relationship with Bruce Wayne, other than they were seen speaking at the occasional social function. At twenty-two, she was promoted to Director of Applied Sciences after Lucious decided to ease into retirement, staying on with the company part-time. 

Four months later, enter The Joker. Oliver scrutinizes the photo of the man feared by so many. He’s unkempt with scraggily hair, scars on his face, and razor-like teeth. It’s his eyes that disturb Oliver the most: cold, cruel, and lifeless. Scanning the rest of the article, Oliver learns that The Joker is everything Ray said he was and more: a mass murderer who derives pleasure off the suffering of others and dedicated to himself above all else. 

Clicking on the next article, he finds only the minimum of what’s available regarding Felicity’s capture and eventual escape. There was a siege during a fundraiser at a local hospital where Felicity was taken and held captive in none other than one of Wayne’s old factories. She was apparently subjected to a myriad of torture techniques all for the sake of destroying Batman. Oliver’s mind flashes to Ivo, gun raised as Oliver kneeled on the ground with Sara at one side and Shado at his other, being forced to choose between two very important women. 

The same issue was brought to Batman: Felicity or Gotham. The Joker gave Batman an option every single time: save one woman from unbearable acts of cruelty, or save dozens from certain death. 

Oliver isn't a rocket scientist, but he's starting to understand the link between Wayne and Batman. The details of her escape are shady at best. He’s just getting into the meat of it when he feels presence behind him.

“Finally decided to look me up, huh?” Felicity is leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed.

“It seemed prudent, considering our current circumstances,” Oliver rises from the chair, tucking his hands in his pockets. His stomach chooses that time to growl, loudly. She quirks her eyebrows at him as he ducks his head in embarrassment. 

“I never got any breakfast this morning. Want to come with me to the kitchen?”

Felicity nods, leading the way downstairs to the kitchen. The front door opens as they arrive, Digg and a petite brunette enter holding groceries and duffle bags.

“Need help with that?” Oliver quickly rids the brunette of the duffles as she gives him a thankful smile.

“I’m Lyla Michaels,” she holds out her hand, shaking both of theirs with a firm grip. Oliver catches sight of a glock holstered at her waist and another smaller weapon at her ankle. “Oliver, Felicity? Is it okay if I call you both by your first names?”

He and Felicity nod as she wraps her arms around herself, no where near verbose as usual.

“Felicity, your bag is the light gray. Just the basics, but it’s all you need really. I also have some equipment out in my truck I think you’ll be happy to see. Once you all change clothes, we can eat some lunch then Johnny and I can give you both a tour of the property.”

Oliver quirks an eyebrow at this woman’s use of the name ‘Johnny’, but it doesn’t phase Digg at all. Interesting.

Five minutes later, Oliver is dressed in a pair of jeans and a henley, standing at the counter before an assembly line of sandwich making with Lyla.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Oliver,” Lyla says as she hands him a slice of bread needing cheese and meat. “Johnny tells me you have… a unique skill set. When we go out later, I’ll show you the weapons shed. I believe there will be something suitable for you.”

Oliver surveys the woman, curious as to her background and how she knows about what he does. When she glances up at him and gives him a knowing smile, he feels that perhaps a discussion is in order. 

Digg and Felicity arrive then, Felicity in dark jeans and a thin sweater, Digg dressed similar to Oliver. 

“Is that panini press still here?” Digg inquires as he starts shuffling through the cabinets.

“You’ve stayed here before?” Felicity asks as she watches Digg produce the panini press as well as a bag of questionable chips.

“Once or twice,” he replies smoothly. “Lyla has a penchant for getting herself in trouble. We occasionally had to seek out a safe place to stay.”

“We?” Oliver can practically hear the wheels churning in her head as she motions between them. “Did you two —“

“We’re divorced,” Lyla states without room for further questioning. “We find that we’re better at a professional partnership than personal. Now, everyone grab a drink and a seat. We’ve got a plan to hash out.”

For the first time in a long time Oliver takes a backseat to the madness, more than happy in his newfound role of Felicity’s protector.

Here’s to hoping The Joker stays in Gotham.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lolololol. I'm so glad I promised myself this wouldn't turn into a long story. Because that clearly worked out well for me. Whatever. Thanks for reading. 
> 
> Also, good job at those of you who guessed it was The Joker.


	7. seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moral of the story is learn your opponent. Take the time, spend the effort, and be patient. If you want it bad enough, you’ve got to be willing to go the distance... take the gamble.

Oliver realizes about an hour into the arrival of Jacob and Ray that he shares way too many similarities with Jacob. They’re both well off, well trained, well built, and completely at the mercy of one Felicity Smoak. For a second, Oliver wonders if he could've turned out like Jacob if he'd gotten his act together on his own without suffering through the five years of unyielding torture. 

These are things Oliver realizes when he's seated out on the back porch, waiting with Jacob as Lyla goes over all the gadgetry with Felicity and Ray. Save for a brief kiss hello, Oliver gathers that neither Jacob or Felicity are into public displays of affection. Which wouldn't bother him if they were, because it's not like he has anything other than platonic feelings for Felicity.

"So let me get this straight,” Oliver starts, “your family owns Bigelow tea? Like... the whole franchise?"

"Yes. It's run by several uncles, Mum, and my older brother Henry. He's to inherit come... 2020."

Oliver nods, taking in the man's casual acknowledgement of wealth but no overbearing decree as found with the likes of Carter Bowen. "Then how'd you end up in the military?"

Jacob glances over at Oliver, then returns his gaze to Felicity. "After Uni, I had two options: family business, or the military. Henry took his rightful place, and then my older brother Charlie chose law, so that was out. He’s a Barrister in London. That daft git couldn’t spot a mare from a barn door.” Jacob sighs as he scratches his jaw, his ire at his brother making his Scottish accent stronger. “I chose the military. I liked the physicality of it all. I just so happened to have the right... mental fortitude for special forces. Served four tours. I was injured during a raid in Afghanistan in 2011. Unfortunately, it was career ending. So, I took my 'attaboy' and my 'thank you for your service' then returned three months later as a civilian."

Intrigued, but not overtly so, Oliver runs his eye over the other man, trying to figure out what happened.

Taking mercy, Jacob pulls up a pant leg revealing a titanium rod in place of a leg. "Apparently you can't do special forces work when you're the bionic man. All the freelance groups care about is liability and your trigger finger. It’s okay though. Felicity has designed at least three different prostheses which make not having a leg almost better. I can run marathons... even store liquor in one of them.”

"She's very resourceful," Oliver states, absently wondering what other things she's designed.

"Between her and Ray, they could create a robot army if they wanted. Just like that film... Iron Man? They could do that."

Oliver tucks this knowledge away for later, straightening as Felicity and Ray return with Lyla. Both she and Ray are speed talking at 1.21 gigawatts per hour, without paying any mind to the others.

“All I did was show them the new hardware we just received. I mean… Are they speaking even English?" Lyla asks as they move inside.

"Hardly. You should see them when we go out to dinner," Jacob replies. "I could sit there with my kit on fire and the lot of 'em, including Anna, would pay me no mind."

"Sounds about right," Oliver agrees as they settle into the kitchen. When Felicity and Ray finally finish geeking out, a decision is made regarding dinner with pizza being the unanimous decision. Felicity and Jacob go up stairs for a bit, doing completely respectable things like praying or cross-stitching a proverb, definitely not making out like their lives depend on it. Because who needs physical intimacy when one’s life is in danger?

Psh. Not Oliver. That’s for sure.

When they return later, Felicity's hair is definitely not in the same position it was in and Jacob appears to have a hickey on his neck. Yes, they were certainly cross-stitching.

Dinner is a quiet affair, most everyone paying attention to the television running nonstop news coverage in the background. No new updates, but this creates a sense of apprehension among the group more than anything. Oliver calls his sister and mother, assuring him of his safety, and tells them to relay the message to Tommy and Laurel.

Meanwhile, Felicity has drifted outside, wrapped securely in an oversized hoodie. He watches her from his bedroom window as she paces along the dock, wondering what she's thinking, how she's feeling. Problem is, Felicity could teach a master class in evasion and diversion techniques. He hasn't gotten a solid answer out of her since they left headquarters and it's starting to grate on his nerves.

No worries. He's a patient man. Well... sort of. He'll wait her out.

.::.

It's three am and Oliver is exhausted. Instead of resting in bed, he's sitting at the kitchen table, playing the longest game of monopoly ever. They all agreed it would be best to stay awake in case anything happened, no outright acknowledgment of the obvious: that Felicity would most likely go without sleep until this was resolved. 

Right now, Lyla is in the lead, with Felicity and Ray pretty much tied for second place. Then Jacob, Digg, and Oliver. 

"You know, I don't know what it says about you as a businessman and an executive if you're losing at Monopoly," Lyla quips as she picks up the dice to roll.

"It says this is an antiquated game full of dumb rules and WHY is all the Chex mix gone?" Oliver frowns as he peers into the bowl.

"It's not. I sorted all the pieces into smaller bowls. Sorry. It's a thing I do when I'm nervous." Felicity points to the smaller bowls all separated by type. "Don't worry. I washed my hands first."

Bemused, Oliver just stares at her, too tired to make a comment. Instead, he picks up every single bowl, and dumps them all into the larger one. "You need to not do that, ever again. If you want something to sort, I saw a jumbo bag of M&Ms in the pantry. Have at it."

Before Felicity can wipe the scowl off her face and grab the bag in question, Jacob places a steadying hand on Felicity's leg.

"Actually, how about we all call it a night? I know the rest of you need to get some sleep to be somewhat functional tomorrow. Me and Felicity can go watch a film."

Glancing around, everyone seems to comply, if somewhat begrudgingly. They pause the game for the time being, then everyone disperses to their assigned rooms. Oliver remains in his seat for a while, thinking about their plan, hoping it won't need to get activated. For as exhausted he is, Oliver sure can’t shut off his mind and it’s frustrating.

Nearly twenty or thirty minutes later, the sound of footsteps on the stairs draws his attention. It's Felicity, talking quietly on the phone.

"... it's not something you just turn off, you know. Yeah, I get that this sucks for him, but we both know what's going to happen. The Joker is not just going to mess with Bruce, he's going to mess with me now too… yeah. Well, _most_ everyone is here.”

Oliver knows he should say something, or at least get up from the table, but she's pacing across the living room floor with her head bowed, walking heel to toe in such a systematic fashion that he doesn't want to startle her. That and he can't help himself.

"Yeah, I've thought of that too. But I think..." Felicity pauses for a moment, both in speech and pacing. "I think I'd rather… _die_ than surrender to him. No — hear me out. If it comes down to it, if it comes down to him demanding to have me back, just so he'll stop hurting others, then I'm done. One hundred percent, I’m done. I can't... I can't do it again, B. I swear to God, if Bruce doesn't catch him this time..."

Oliver tightens his grip on the table, not liking how dark the conversation has grown. There is no universe in which he will ever comply with handing Felicity over to that madman. He’d go after The Joker himself if he had the assets and capability. Staying here where he can be sure that Felicity is safe will have to suffice for now.

It strikes him then that when everyone assembled earlier, drawing together a plan of attack, Felicity sat quietly, offering little by way of input. Which is not like her at all. She is strategic to a fault. Of course she'd have a plan b. He just never figured someone like her would think of death as so easy an option.

He's pulled from his thoughts by Felicity ending her call. He remains still, hoping she'll turn and go back upstairs, but instead she turns and faces him with her arms crossed.

They level each other with defiant looks for a solid thirty seconds before he nudges out the chair in front of him, inviting her to take a seat. Head bowed, she slides in the chair and sets her phone on the table. He watches her, flat out unabashedly stares, taking in the dark circles, the pale pink of her lips, the frizz of her hair as it spills out of her half hearted braid. Sitting at this table in the dead of night, feeling caged in and somewhat helpless, he's never felt more connected with someone. 

It’s this awareness that finally makes him break his silence.

He looks up, but her gaze is still fixed on the board game, stubbornly so. “After the ship sank… My dad was alive with me on the life raft... we were running out of rations and he - he handed me this book, told me to right his wrongs, then he just... he shot himself right in front of me."

Olive doesn't bother looking up at this point, just lets the words roll out of his mouth as she chews on her lip silently. Minutes pass, words continue to fall like water bursting from a levy. 

"I uh... I wasn't always on the island," Oliver whispers, absently picking up his monopoly piece with his hand. "I spent time in Hong Kong... mostly against my will, as well as Russia. But Lian Yu - that was a special breed of hell.” 

He glances back up at Felicity, wishing he could read her thoughts. Then, he continues on, “… after Yao Fei and Shado, I met this man named Slade Wilson. He taught me a lot about survival, but he also revealed the worst parts of myself."

Letting out a puff of air, he feels a strange sense of pressure in his throat, the way it lines with gravel, and he decides that maybe he should stop talking. He pushes on, just a little bit more. “The uh… last time I saw him. We were in a sinking ship and he was full of this… rage. We fought and I eventually stabbed him in the eye with an arrow, just before I fell unconscious.”

They remain in silence for a couple more minutes, the heaviness of his words hanging over them as dark secrets finally unleashed tend to do. He wonders for a moment if he made a mistake sharing his past with her, when her hand reaches up to flick away a tear.

"Thank you for sharing that with me," she whispers, her voice tight and equally gritty. After several minutes, she glances up at him, offering a soft smile. ”I... I only met your father a couple times. The most memorable was when he showed up at this pretentious exposition my University hosted just before graduation. He held out his hand and said, 'Queen Consolidated doesn't have what you're looking for. Not yet, at least. But if I build it, will you come?"

Oliver's eyebrows dart upward, shocked at the thought of his father putting forth that kind of effort for someone. Then again, he recalls her impressive resume and knows that she could have revolutionized his company years ago. 

"You turned him down? That’s harsh," Oliver replies trying to bring levity, but it falls flat.

"At the time..." Felicity lets out this soft sigh, "at the time, I was already working with Bruce and several others, not just at the company, but doing things for Gotham that really made a difference. I helped people in ways that I never dreamed imaginable. Your father's offer just didn't seem like it would provide me with what I wanted." She runs her nail along a groove in the table, her gaze fixed on the movement.

"And Wayne gave you that?"

Felicity shrugs, frowning. “Mostly. When I was young, I’d gotten on Lucious’s radar for couple years after I got busted for hacking their system and uploading their software to the ‘net. He didn’t press charges, but he wanted me to contact him when I was about to graduate high school… Speed up a couple years, I met Bruce and Lucious in Las Vegas. I was sixteen, just accepted at MIT and these two super powerful men were sitting with me at this dive burger joint, asking what I thought about the new processor they just released. It was shit, and I told them as much.”

Oliver’s lip quirks at the thought, wondering what she was like as a teenager. "I suspect you have authority issues.."

Giving him a disparaging look, Felicity pushes ahead, ignoring his comment. "By the end of the meal, I talked them into playing a round of poker with me. I bet them that if I won, they'd foot the bill for my college tuition and I'd give them four years. If I lost, I'd give them four years and a prototype for a new processor."

During this story, it dawns on Oliver that while he knows a lot about Felicity  - her likes and dislikes, he knows very little of her own history - what made her who she is. He's asked once or twice, but he realizes only now that she never gives him a solid answer.

"Knowing what an Ace poker player you are, I assume you got a free ride?"

She gives him this sad, broken smile. "Nope. I lost the game."

His brow furrows. "But why? You can count cards."

"I may have lost the game, but I still walked out of there with a job. Not bad for a sixteen-year-old who hadn't been to college yet." She leans forward and reaches for his abandoned monopoly piece. "I also learned their tells; which is why I raised the stakes the next game and completely demolished them both. Got a free ride and negotiated the deal for research and development. And _that_ was without counting."

"So the moral of the story is never play you in poker?" 

She pushes away from the table, wrapping her sweater around herself tightly as she stands.

"No, the moral of the story is _learn your opponent_. Take the time, spend the effort, and _be patient_. If you want it bad enough, you’ve got to be willing to go the distance... take the gamble.” She picks up her phone and glances at the clock. "Night, Oliver. Try and get some sleep.”

.::.

It shouldn't have surprised him that when he woke the next morning, she was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> le sigh. i do so love me a good ole fashioned cliffhanger. 
> 
> thanks for reading!


	8. huit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He doesn’t know where he should go or what he should do. He feels so overwhelmingly hopeless and it is not a way he’d like to be.

It’s been eight freakishly long hours after they all realize she’s left, bringing them solidly into early afternoon. Not only that, but she did in fact, hack ARGUS software and digitally locked them inside the house. She also scrambled all signals so nothing is getting in or out at the moment. To say she screwed them is an understatement.

"That's it? That's what she told you?  _Learn your opponent_?" Digg frowns as he and Oliver go over the note Felicity left once more.

"I can't believe she locked us in here!" Jacob yells as he throws a pillow at an arm chair. " _To keep us safe_ ' Is she kidding right now? I was her bodyguard for over a year! My entire existence  _revolved_  around keeping her safe. I should've known she'd pull something like this. You don't hang out with Batman for a few years and not pick up on his self-sacrificial tendencies."

"Jacob, you know for a fact that she did this so we wouldn't be used as targets,” Ray says firmly. Of anyone, he’s taking their incarceration the best. “It makes so much more sense now why she was irritated that I hadn't brought Anna with me yesterday. She wanted her here too."

Oliver keeps his mouth shut, going over the story she shared again and again. She was trying to tell him something, he's just not sure what. He knows for a fact that when he sees her again they are going to exchange some not so nice words. 

“I just… I don’t understand why she thought this was the best option,” Oliver says quietly to Diggle. “She knows what all of us do for a living. Why wouldn’t she trust us enough to go in with her?”

"This has very little to do with trust." Digg crosses his arms, giving Oliver a steady look “It’s like what Ray just said, man. By keeping us locked in here, we’re five less people she needs to worry about.”

“What good is that to me if she’s gets herself killed in the process?” Oliver grits out, growing frustrated as he watches Jacob pace. “You know she went off on a suicide mission. We both know it.”

“I think Felicity has been dealing with some demons for a while now, and this is the only way she knows how to face it,” Digg replies, “having us as collateral damage isn’t something she wants on her conscience.”

“But her dying is  _more than fine_  for our consciences?”

Digg shrugs, “Answer me this: If you were in her position, where a homicidal sociopath were out to get you and would certainly hurt or kill all those you hold dear, would you not do everything in your power to be kept safe?”

Oliver feels the air escape his lungs as though Digg had pushed the reality into him.

"Guys... you need to come see this," Lyla calls from the living room in front of the television where she’s peering over Palmer’s shoulder. He’s sitting in front, typing quickly as he works to break through all the encryption she placed on the system. 

“No offense, but I thought you’d be a lot faster at this,” Jacob states, echoing Oliver’s thoughts.

“First off, none taken. But I kindly remind you all that Felicity is my VP for a reason. She specializes in a completely different field of Computer Science than I do. We balance each other out in that regard. Though I can do it, hacking has never been my forte. And really — Felicity isn’t boasting when she says she’s the one of the best. It’s an actual fact. I’m pretty proud that I’ve been able to do this much.”

Oliver watches as Palmer's fingers fly over the key board, screen after screen flashing and transmitting to the television. Soon enough, several video feeds pop up in their own boxes on the screen.  They rise simultaneously and crowd around the large flat screen television.

"We got a hacked feed off one of the warehouses on the outskirts of the city,” Lyla offers as she points to the upper corner. “Looks like The Joker led them back where he kept Felicity. Don’t ever accuse this guy of being original.”

Oliver takes in the dank, cavernous space, rusted beams, broken windows, chains dangling with malicious intent. He's almost surprised Wayne didn't have it torn down. He takes a step closer to the screen, spotting a lone individual, sitting in a cage suspended from the ceiling. Where does one even find a cage like that?

“Can you zoom in at all?” Oliver asks Ray since he can’t make out the person in the image.

Ray frowns, shaking his head. “No. And this is the only camera. But —“ he types a little more and another screen pops up, this time revealing several other warehouses, rundown and empty and bearing one person in a cage, suspended from the ceiling.

“Shit. There’s… eight empty warehouses up there,” Jacob mutters. “This is bad. Wayne owns twelve around the world, only two are empty. Ray, how many —“

“I've got nine, that one…” he motions to the second one from he right, swallowing hard, “that one is mine.”

“And I’ve got twelve as well, but three empty here,” he whispers. Immediately he knows who’s in all three of those cages: Laurel, his mother, and his sister. “Ray you need to get us out of here, RIGHT NOW.”

Before Ray can do much further, the screens all fizzle ominously, the static making Oliver’s stomach drop. An image flashes onto the screen of a haggard man with stringy hair, bloodshot-menacing eyes, and razor sharp teeth. 

“Felicity? Is that you tapping into my feed? Come out, come out wherever you are…” he taunts, flashing a cruel smile. “I hope you enjoy what I have planned, I’ve been thinking about you for so very long—“

Immediately the lights and all the power are cut to the house. Lyla shoots up first. “Either ARGUS is finally here, or Felicity knows what he’s going to do.”

“I think it’s a combination, actually,” Jacob says as he checks his gun and in a fluid motion. “Felicity has been designing software for ARGUS since she was twenty. They have a… tenuous relationship.”

“Why does this not surprise me at all?” Lyla mutters as they finish collecting their gear, preparing to exit the house. Oliver stores that knowledge away for later, wondering who all his co-worker has spent her time working for and where her allegiance lies.

“I know it didn’t seem like it,” Palmer grabs his backpack and swings it around his shoulders, “but it was me. I couldn’t hack her code, so I just disabled everything all together and overrode that emergency code, which was not nearly as well protected.”

“Whatever it takes,” Digg claps him on the shoulder in passing. "Let's get while the gettin' is good."

Instead of heading to their vehicles, Lyla leads them to a helicopter pad. She’s keying a code into her phone as they walk. Before reaching the pad she holds out her arms to halt them and the ground rumbles before the dusty earth separates, revealing a helicopter inside the cavern.

“Even I can appreciate that’s pretty badass,” Jacob says as the helicopter rises out of the ground. 

“Boys, I need to know your weight,” she states, glancing at the group. “This is a four man bird and, well…”

She does a mental tally after they supply their weights and she sighs. “We won’t be able to travel far. “Oliver, which factory is closest?”

“The one that has my sister. It’s not far from Laurel’s. They’re both in the Glades,” he states assuredly. 

Everyone climbs inside securing themselves appropriately. Seeing as both Ray and Lyla know how to fly, she generously allows him to do so and sandwiches herself in the back between her ex-husband and Oliver. 

The trip is quicker than Oliver would’ve expected, then again, he can’t stop thinking about how afraid his mom and sister must feel. Once they touch down, Oliver and Diggle pile out of the helicopter with the understanding that Roy and Jacob are going to return to Central City.

“I’ll see you soon, Johnny,” Lyla gives Diggle this look that is 100% promise and Oliver looks away at the intimacy. He’s never once had that with anyone, not even Laurel. 

He and Digg run a quick parameter around the building, knowing that it’s poorly manned and he feels confident that they will be able to secure the warehouse with little issue.

That is until he steps inside. There’s absolutely no one there except for the cage, a nd it's empty.

“Dammit,” he grits out, glancing over at Digg. “It was a trick. He fed us that bullshit.”

“We need to get in touch with Ray,” Digg pulls out his phone and places the call, growing discouraged when no one picks up. “We should check the other warehouse.”

Oliver nods and they evacuate the building, heading north toward the other warehouse. After five minutes of jogging, Digg finally makes contact, “Ray, it was a decoy. His sister wasn’t there, man. Watch yourself.”

“It’s uh… it’s too late anyway,” Ray replies, his voice somber.

“What do you mean,” Oliver replies, slowing so he can hear Ray better.

“Anna’s… she’s gone. He took her and… I wasn’t even there,” Ray says, his voice tight, the sound is muffled as Jacob comes over the phone. “I’ve dispatched some men to Ray’s warehouses. They’re due to report back shortly. I’ll keep you posted. Out.”

The phone goes dead as Oliver gives Digg a concerned look. They continue on in silence as the warehouse draws closer. He’s only been to this one once, when he was a kid, and he had the worst scare of his young life here and never returned. 

Until now.

As before, they secure the perimeter then enter silently, finding it empty once again.

“I swear to God, I saw one of my warehouses on that screen,” Oliver kicks an empty beer can clear across the warehouse. “What is going on?”

Diggle shakes his head, calling Lyla. “Yeah, okay. Sounds good. Thanks… okay. Bye.”

“Lyla is going to meet us in ten minutes at that field we just passed,” Digg replies as they turn and exit the warehouse, walking in the opposite direction. “She says that both your mom and sister were placed on lockdown yesterday at the Queen Mansion. Apparently Felicity called Mr. Steele and gave him a heads up.”

Oliver shakes his head, clenching his fists as they go. “What about Laurel?”

“She’s with Tommy at his place. They’re safe, man. They’re good.”

They continue on to the field in silence, Oliver’s thoughts running a mile a minute. He doesn’t know where he should go or what he should do. He feels so overwhelmingly hopeless and it is not a way he’d like to be.  “So it comes back to Felicity, once again. Where is she?”

Digg shakes his head, covering his eyes as the helicopter comes back into view. They climb inside and head to the queen mansion this time.

.::.

It’s not until the early hours of the morning that anyone knows what’s going going on. Oliver has been talking with Palmer sporadically over the course of the afternoon, not liking how lifeless the man’s voice has grown. Jacob departed for Gotham with a group of men to provide support. 

Oliver is downstairs with Diggle and Lyla, keeping watch on all available news channels, hoping for any sort of news. Other than a relentless storm striking Gotham, not much can be said. 

Thea comes and joins them shortly thereafter, wrapped in a thick fleece blanket. She curls into Oliver, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“How are you doing?” she whispers.

Sighing, Oliver glances down at her. “Truly? I’m not sure. I’ve… I’ve been a wrong about a lot of things in the past 24 hours, so right now, I’m just… I’m waiting to see what’s going on.”

“It’s hard... watching people you care about going through something, but they won’t let you in.” She says softly. It’s not direct strike against him per se, but he grasps the meaning behind her words and allows himself to look at recent events from her perspective for a change. 

“Speedy…” he starts, searching for the words. “A lot of things happened while I was away, very few of them changed me for the better. Part of me is still coming to grips with who I’ve become without having to work to survive on a daily basis.”

She watches him closely, reading the truth on his face. Finally, she nods, setting her chin on his arm. “I understand, but I want you to know that even if you’ve done awful things, or if awful things have been done to you,” she swipes her hand across a scar she recalls on his abdomen. “Just know that it’s my job to love you first and foremost. I’m here, Ollie. Whenever you need me. I’ll be patient.”

His eyebrows draw together as her words dislodge a chunk of ice formed in his chest. She’s such a tough person, his sister, and surely he doesn’t believe her.

Before he can ponder any further, one of the ARGUS feeds sparks to life. It’s revels a rooftop in a place he doesn’t recognize. The image is grainy and super poor quality, but it’s enough to make out what’s going on. Oliver glances at his laptop, seeing Ray jerk to life on vidchat. 

“There, bottom left hand corner,” Lyla points out movement along the rooftop, the shadows obscuring all but a flutter of light hair.

“Felicity,” Oliver breathes out, feeling fear tighten in his chest. They track her movement as she sprints across the rooftop until she reaches her goal, a post with something — no, someone — suspended by a rope. As she climbs up the post and unties the person, they’re clearly talking, Oliver catches movement in the background.

“Behind you,” he calls out to no one, hating that he doesn’t have direct communication with her. 

“Oh God. That’s Anna. She’s… she’s with Anna,” Ray whispers as he leans in toward his own screen. By the size differential, it’s hard to tell who's who for certain, but he’d know that ponytail anywhere. She leads the person behind a wall as others climb onto the roof, an untold number lurking in the shadows.

Then a bright light shines down from a helicopter flying above and several dark figures drop down from suspended ladders, the last being none other than The Joker.

There's a standoff of sorts, very tense posturing and whatnot. All Oliver knows is that somehow, he and the others have risen and are as close as possible to the screen without getting blurred vision, watching everything that occurs with baited breath.

And then a camera crew gets part of the feed directly from The Joker himself —“you let all those people die. How does that make you feel? If only,  _if only_  you’d come to me when I told you to.”

There’s talking, but without a mic, no one can decipher what is said. Oliver watches as the figures move about on the rooftop, frowning as he realizes how this will end. 

“What do you want, Batman? Angry because you lost your girl?” The Joker dances around the screen, laughing darkly. "Face it, you know how this is going to go,  _Batman_. But first, I'm gonna make you pay."

Glancing around, Oliver searches for Batman, finding him standing off to the side of the Joker, still covered in shadows. 

Without warning, all hell breaks loose. 

Everyone on that rooftop is fighting someone, but he can’t spot Felicity to save his life. Untold minutes pass as bodies drop to the ground, dark pools collecting around them. Oliver can’t bring himself to look away, knowing that any one of them could be Felicity.  Then there’s an explosion and several people drop to the ground as debris scatters.  A flash of light hair clothed in dark leather catches his eye, but then he spots the bo staff and knows it’s not Felicity.

He looks at one of the other feeds and catches sight of Felicity pulling Anna to a nearby rooftop.  Something must draw her attention because she stops and turns around, arms raised. He sees The Joker, dragging his leg behind him, holding up what looks to be a revolver. Felicity shakes her head as he points it in her direction. They exchange words, over the course of which he lowers the weapon while chaos rains down around them.

The pacification is short-lived because suddenly he raises the gun and takes aim, firing two shots in rapid succession.

It happens in slow motion, the way Felicity leaps through the air, catching both bullets solidly in the chest before they can find their destined home in Anna. She immediately drops from the air, collapsing in a heap on the rooftop.

“Oh my God,” Thea covers her face while Ray gasps in the background. Diggle curses under his breath as Lyla crosses her arms, jaw dropped in shock.  

Oliver remains frozen in place as he watches Batman swoop down on The Joker, snapping his neck in a swift movement. Three others join him on rooftop as the rest of the dark figures disassemble. Oliver isn’t sure who they are, but they’re certainly there for Felicity.

One of them bends to pick Anna away from Felicity’s prone form, her shoulders shaking in obvious sorrow. The Batman drops to the ground, reaching his hand out to her cheek, then sweeps his cape around her.

The feed fizzles out and the news helicopter loses the shot as smoke overtakes the rooftop.

Oliver drops to sit on the coffee table, bracing his elbows on his knees as he struggles to catch his breath. He starts seeing spots and feels like something heavy is sitting on his chest. He needs… he needs air. 

Scrambling out of there, ignoring Thea as she grabs his hand or the way Diggle calls out to him, Oliver sprints outside and runs. 

And runs.

Runs until he reaches the edge of his property, acres away from the house. He can’t catch his breath but he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want anything but to erase the image from his mind of Felicity dropping from the air like a sack of flour.

He drops to all fours, lets his head drop to the damp grass as he catches his breath. Her words play over and over in his mind:  _be patient_ … _I’d rather die, than surrender to him… If you want it bad enough you’ve got to be willing to go the distance._

Slowly, ever so painfully, Oliver returns to himself. He feels the way Felicity's voice used to pull him in after a long day, the way she’d come in his office and pull stories out of him. Stories about when he was a kid with Tommy, the way Raisa would always make him breakfast on Saturdays, even if was just getting home from a night out. He thinks back to those nights he’d drop by Felicity’s place, how he never felt anything but warm and content, the way her laughter curled around him like a soft blanket, her scent soft and comforting.

He thinks finally about the look she gave him last night: defiant and fierce and completely… completely wild… skittish.

He’s seen that look before, reflected back in the mirror several times over the course of the past few years. But not once, not since he’s met Felicity, has he ever felt that unhinged. He’s not sure if it’s having friends and family here, or just knowing that he has Diggle and mostly Felicity at his back, but he’s never felt so at a loss.

After nearly twenty minutes, Oliver collects himself, preparing himself for facing his family, for facing his friends, facing… facing his company — all without Felicity. 

All he feels is numb, hollow even. When he approaches the mansion, most of the downstairs lights are still on, which annoys him somewhat, but it can’t be helped. He enters through a side door, unobtrusive and silent. He enters the kitchen where everyone is collected, somber and grim-faced. 

They glance up at him, but their looks are blank and dark as he takes his place beside his sister, bringing an arm around her shoulder again. She turns into him and wraps her arms around his waist, letting out a shuddering breath. He rests his chin on the crown of her head, running his hand along her shoulder to provide comfort.

A sound from the living room causes Digg to go and investigate. He returns with Oliver’s laptop, turning the computer to the group as it reveals a red-eyed Ray Palmer.

A strange buzzing fills Oliver’s ears, causing him to shake his head as Ray begins speaking, giving Oliver a couple second lag until his hearing clears. “… Anna is okay, but… guys, it’s about Felicity….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, Don't get all salty in the comments. It's a cliffhanger for a reason.  
> Thanks for reading :)


	9. Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He tries to ignore the warmth that spreads through his body at her gentle offer, but can’t quite pretend.

Nearly two days elapse after the events in Gotham. Oliver receives two texts from Felicity, both concise and lacking in her usual flair. The first is in the wee hours of the morning after her not-so-fatal shooting:  _Tell everyone I’m fine. Sorry for all the trouble I caused. Safe now._

And that’s it for the first one. It’s not until later that day (after some much needed rest) that he get the full details from Ray during a vidchat: “Yeah she’s…  apparently she’s had this planned for a while now. This whole,  _What to do if The Joker escapes_ plan. The only problem was that he grabbed Anna. Felicity knew he’d grab someone she loved, she just wasn’t sure who. That’s why she was so compliant in the beginning, anticipating that we’d all come together to… provide support and protect her, when in reality we walked into her trap. It’s also why she was so irritated that I hadn’t brought Anna with me.”

Oliver blinks repeatedly. “Wait… she knew this was going to happen? All of it?”

“I think…” Ray sighs, glancing down. “I think she’s had four very long years to think about ways he’d try to get his revenge. She essentially created a program to run all these different scenarios based on how much time passed. That’s also why she left the Lake house when she did. If she’d waited any longer… the fallout would have been catastrophic.”

Nodding, Oliver crosses his arms, tucking this information away for later. “How many casualties?”

“Good guys? Only three. Batman called in some assistance for this one. That’s why they were able to equalize the fight so fast.” Ray looks off to the side, smiling. “Listen, I’ve got to take off, I’m meeting Anna at the tarmac. Felicity expects to be back in Starling City in a couple days.”

Eyebrows darting upward, Oliver shakes his head as he holds up a hand. “She can take all the time she needs, it’s not a big deal. No need to rush back”

“Trust me, Felicity has a strange way of processing things. Give her a solid day to dwell, then she’s over it. If anything, when she comes back, let her behavior be your guide.”

Oliver nods in acknowledgement as he shuts off the chat, glancing around the quiet office at his home. Well then, business as usual.

.::.

The second text he receives is the following morning. He’s on his way to work after taking most the morning off, giving himself a chance to catch up with emails and ease into the day.

_Be back soon. Don’t forget meeting regarding Unidac Industries. Also, Jerry got the tickets for the Archers game for you and Tommy for next weekend. They’re in my office. Can you also check to make sure he’s eaten? Thanks!_

Oliver replies quickly:  _Take your time. Thank you for the tickets. I’ll head up there now_. He quickly informs Tommy of the box seats they’ll have for the Archers game that weekend and walks up the stairs to Felicity’s side of the building. When he reaches her floor, he’s once again struck by how quiet everything is, but then he realizes most everyone is wearing headphones. 

Occasional glances are cast his way, but as he’s not really their boss, nor is he an attractive female, most of the guys continue typing away. He scans the room and absently registers that there are approximately nine women out of forty-seven techs and analysts.

Those… are not good numbers. Felicity has been aggressively recruiting females for their STEM field, however he’s not sure how successful it’s been. Granted, he never bothered to ask, either. For later, perhaps. 

When he reaches the small glass-walled corridor that leads to Felicity’s office, he spots Jerry with his hair disheveled and his tie nocked a little crooked around his neck.

“Jerry? Are you alright?” Oliver inquires quietly, not wanting to draw any undue attention.

“Hi! Yes. Fine. I am 100 percent, A-OK fine,” Jerry nods, for emphasis. The phone beside him rings again, but he simply pushes another button, placing his hand on a stack of files that appears to have grown out of control.  _No, he’s not overwhelmed at all._

“It looks like you’ve got a lot of people trying to call you right now,” Oliver nods to the phone panel that is lit up like a Christmas tree. “Maybe we should send over some help for a little bit?”

“Actually, no. Don’t worry about it. It’s mostly news organizations wanting to speak with Felic- Ms. Smoak about…  _things_. Since they can’t reach her any other way, they’ve been calling me non-stop all morning. Yesterday was even worse.”

Oliver frowns, trying to come up with an idea. “How about this, we’ll have PR release a statement regarding Felicity with the request that they respect her privacy. Sound good?”

“Certainly, Mr. Queen,” Jerry sighs. “Oh! You must be here for the tickets. Strange though, I’m surprised you don’t have your own box at the stadium.”

Glancing up at Jerry, Oliver takes the proffered tickets. “It actually  _is_  my box. One I lost in a poker game about seven years ago.”  Either way, Oliver would rather spend the money on the Glades than waste it on a box. It’s Tommy’s birthday, however, so Oliver decided to buy out the thing for the month and spend it having quality Male Bonding Time.

“I see,” Jerry replies, looking mildly abashed. “Well, hope you have a great time.”

“Thank you. I’ll have PR send out the release within the hour. Call my EA if you run into any difficulty.”

“Yes, Mr. Queen.”

Instead of having a productive Friday, Oliver spends it entertaining about thirty-dozen brief visits from every executive that has ever lived, saying something along the lines of: “I’m so glad Ms. Smoak is safe and doing well.” “She’s such an asset to the company. I can’t even imagine this place without her.” “It’s a shame someone as brilliant as her got mixed up in such a convoluted tale. How much of that is really true, anyway?” “It feel like everything is a little off-kilter when she isn’t around. When will she return?”

Oliver replies to all of these with vague words, warm smiles, scowls, and gratitude. Ad nauseum.

To be honest, it actually grates on his nerves a bit, mainly because 1. She’s not a Queen Consolidated Employee and 2. He’s still angry with her for just leaving them behind. He’s angry in general, but her executive decision remains something he is officially not okay with.

Besides… It’s not like Oliver wants to nod effusively and agree with every comment made about how amazing Felicity is, because…  _no_  that would be silly. Right?  _Right._

.::.

It’s nearly nine when he gets home that night, sore and disgruntled. Dropping his briefcase by the door, he loosens his tie and undoes a couple buttons, then rolls up his sleeve as he walks to the kitchen. He spots a sticky note on the counter from Thea indicating that she made chicken cacciatore and that she won’t be home until tomorrow morning. 

Which implies that she’s spending the night at Roy’s. Not something he’s going to think about. Not at all. He makes a face a disgust, shaking his head to himself as he surveys his meal.  _Not bad, not bad at all,_  Miss Queen.

While his dinner reheats in the oven per Thea’s instructions, he heads upstairs and changes into workout gear, fully intending to beat his body into submission so he can catch a little sleep tonight.  Just as he takes the food out of the oven there's a knock at his door. Setting down the hot dish, and then walks over and opens the door.

Sucking in a breath, he freezes as he takes in Felicity’s appearance.  Hair falling out of a loose ponytail, she’s wearing a worn sweater, ripped jeans and converse sneakers, holding a bag over one shoulder. She could easily pass for a runaway. There’s a small cut with butterfly bandages over her left eyebrow and the faint line of a bruise along her jaw.

When he finally meets her eyes, all pent-up feelings of anger and irritation dissipate, because he knows,  _knows_  in the depths of his soul what that shadowed look means. It’s fear and frustration and exhaustion, but it’s also the knowledge that a mission has been accomplished, even if a part of herself was traded in along the way.

And for the first time in a very long time, he opens his arms to someone other than a family member. 

Her face starts to crumple as she lets out a soft cry, dropping her bag to the ground as she burrows her head into his chest. She’s somuch shorter without her heels that he easily wraps his arms around her shoulders, feeling the shuddering breaths she takes as her hands clench and unclench the fabric at his back. He rests his chin on her head, occasionally pressing kisses to the top as he drops one hand and runs it in a soothing manner along her back.

Even though she stops crying after a couple minutes, she continues to cling to him for many more. He keeps his arms wrapped around her, timing his breathing to hers as she steadies. 

Eventually she pulls away, wiping her flushed face clean of her tears and running her hand on his damp shirt bashfully, looking apologetic.

“Sorry, I’m a mess, I just...” she let’s out a breath as he tugs her inside finally, shutting the door behind her. “I just got back and I was… I was heading home but then I got out of my car and walked across the street instead of going up to my place and now I’m here. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, don’t be sorry,” Oliver says far softer than his intends. “I’m glad you dropped by. It gives me a chance to look you over before everyone else.”

She ducks her head as he guides her to the kitchen bar. She takes a seat as he points to his dish, silently asking if she wants some. After a moment’s deliberation, she nods and he scoops out two large servings and takes a seat next to her.

They’re quiet in the beginning, with only the sounds of utensils scraping against ceramic made between them. After demolishing his meal, he glances over and frowns as she twists her fork around, having only eaten a quarter of the dish.

“Do you want something different? I can make you a grilled cheese. Oh, and we still have some of your ice —“ He stops when he feels her cool hand on his wrist, shaking her head.

“No. Thank you. I’m still… really nauseas. I typically to go the opposite way and stress eat, but sometimes I go to the other extreme. Which is probably a good right now, all things considered,” she says as she pats her non existent belly.

“I’m going to disagree with you and end the discussion on food right there,” Oliver replies as he stands, grabbing her plate and his own then sets them in the sink for later. “I have something you will not be able to pass up though. And if you do, I’ll think you’re a Cylon*.”

She grins at his use of geek terminology and leans forward on her arms as he walks to the wine cabinet, pulling down a bottle that looks a bit dusty. Handing it to her, he holds his breath, waiting for her impending verbal-storm of excitement.

“Petrus, 2009…” She runs the name over in her mind as she goes through her mental catalog of Bordeaux. “Holy Frak! Oliver… this is a FIVE-THOUSAND DOLLAR BOTTLE OF WINE.”

“Yes.”

“Why did you hand me this? It’s way too much. Way, wayyyyyyyy too much.”

“Really?” he grabs two glasses and the decanter, searching through a drawer for the cork remover. “I feel like defying a madman hell-bent on destroying you and all those you hold dear to be enough reason to drink a good bottle of wine.”

Before she can say anything further, he uncorks the bottle and pours the contents into the decanter, watching as the rich red liquid swirls about in a dazzling fashion. Felicity watches, jaw slack and star-struck. As he lets the wine breathe, Oliver leans on the counter and taps Felicity’s chin, prompting her to finally shut her mouth.

“Maybe you are a Cylon. You kinda look like the blonde one.” Oliver pokes fun at her as he finishes his water. “Why'd you came back already? It’s Friday night. You should have stayed back with Jacob for the weekend.”

As soon as he says the words, he knows he made a mistake, judging by the shuddered look that crosses her features. “Or… I mean, you know. Here’s good too. More than good.”

She doesn’t respond with a nervous ramble like usual, she glances at the counter and picks at her nearly bare nails. “We had an argument before I left. I’m giving him some time to reset.”

Oliver isn’t exactly sure what that means, but he knows she didn’t say ‘broken up’ so it means nothing to him. Instead of pressing her on it, he decides to take mercy like she has upon him in the past, and silently pours them large servings of wine.

“Well, I don’t know about you,” Oliver sighs after taking a small sip, letting the wine settle on his palate in a similar fashion to Felicity, “but Thea has reassembled nearly all of our home movie collection in my living room. Let's take a look?”

Lip caught between her teeth as she contemplates, Oliver quickly averts his gaze back to his wine and moves to the living room. Whenever she hesitates, it’s typically a yes, she’s just trying to justify it in her mind. A few moments later he hears her pad into the space, her presence warm and soft beside him as they stare at his wall of DVDs, selecting movies at will.

“Oh! Mulan! Putting that in the watch pile.” Felicity starts singing, 'I'll Make a Man Out of You' as she sets the box down.

Oliver glances over and sees that she’s amassed a small collection in no time. “You do realize we aren’t going to watch  _all_ of those in the next 48 hours, right?”

She grins up at him, eyebrow quirked. “Challenge accepted.”

“Felicity…” he stops when she holds up one of the Bond movies, as well as the entire Bourne Trilogy. “I do have other things to do, you know.”

“And I promise to help you take out bad guys as well. But not tonight. Tomorrow, maybe. But tonight? We watch movies. And drink more wine. Preferably more of this. And maybe something that came out of a box? Because wow! This is amazing, but every sip I take is equivalent to like… nearly two hundred dollars and it’s kind of making me break out in hives at the thought.”

Oliver takes her glass as she sits down and rifles through the stack. Moments later, she has it narrowed down to five.

“Nope, I veto The NeverEnding Story. It’s part of a trilogy and I have to watch the entire thing, no one-offs,” Oliver states sternly as he finishes his glass.

“Shoot, but what about Back to the Future?”

“Nope.”

"Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?"

"No."

“Oliver!”

Ignoring her pout and stomp, her pushes on. “I’ll trade you Lilo and Stitch and… Aladdin for Casablanca and The Philadelphia Story.”

“What about His Girl Friday?”

Oliver pauses, grabbing the DVD. “Huh. I thought it was Wednesday.”

“What!? That doesn’t even make any sense.”

“ _You_  don’t make any sense,” Oliver rebuts as he purses his lips immaturely, feeling the effects of the rich wine and Felicity’s presence combing to make him feel almost playful. “Fine, fine. How about two animated movies, one black and white, one eighties, and one new?”

“Oliver Queen, be still my heart,” Felicity fans her face as she puts the other hand out to shake, “you have yourself a deal”

Placing his much larger hand in hers, he can’t help the smile that crosses his face as he looks down at her, the warmth of her fingers slipping along his palm.

Two and a half bottles of wine later, they end up watching Wall-e and Weird Science before passing out on the large, L-shaped couch. It’s only when Thea arrives at home late the following morning that Oliver realizes that he never texted her to thank her for dinner. 

She takes one look at Felicity curled up in a ball in the corner of the couch, the DVD home screen, and the wine and gives him a small smile.

“I’ll make us a nice greasy breakfast if we can keep watching movies all day,” she offers softly as he stands slowly, ignoring the pounding in his head. He walks up and wraps his arms around her, resting his chin against her head. 

“That sounds like a marvelous idea,” Oliver pulls away as he glances outside. The sky looks heavy and dark with storm clouds making it difficult for him to go on patrol later. No matter, the book will keep for another day. Though bandits and gangs? Not so much.

After the heinous hangovers subside much later on in the day, Felicity and Thea team up against Oliver to coerce him into making them pizza. He quickly decides it’s time to get some fresh air. Being cooped up with Thea is one thing, because he can tickle her into submission. But Felicity? Tickling most certainly isn’t an option. She’s a whole other category of conern that he’s not going to think about at this time. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to run you out,” Felicity walks up to him as he tugs on his running shoes. “You don’t have to make us pizza if you don’t want to. I can… actually, wow. I should go. I’ve been here way too long already.”

“What? No.” Oliver shrugs. “I just need to go for a run. I get antsy when I stay cooped up for too long. Let's take a break. Come back around dinner time? I know the rain's going to pick back up again soon.”

Felicity narrows her eyes at him, as though trying to read his body language to interpret what he isn’t saying. Apparently, he passes muster, because she nods and grabs her bag, bidding a brief adieu to Thea before following Oliver downstairs. They part outside his building, not even bothering with goodbyes.

.::.

Later that evening, after he’s pushed out ten miles at a brutal pace and Felicity’s returned home to shower, water her plants and look semi-human again, they continue watching movies with Thea. Eventually, Oliver feels the weight of Thea’s head as it slides down against his shoulder, defeated by their movie marathon. He glances over her head at Felicity who remains enthralled by the movie, quietly munching on popcorn.

“Hey Felicity?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you… do you want to talk about it at all?” he asks softly, holding his breath. She swivels her head toward him, blinking owlishly as she considers his words.

Letting out a slow exhale, she shakes her head. “No… not yet.”

He nods, trying not to feel disappointed and glad at the same time. 

“Hey Oliver?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to talk about... things?”

He keeps his gaze fixed on her, deliberating for several moments. Eventually, he shakes his head as well. “Not really.”

She nods slowly, but doesn’t look away. Despite the sounds of the movie, the moment falls densely between them, like they opened a door but aren’t sure which way it should swing.

Finally, she breaks with a soft smile and sincere words. “You can always tell me, you know. I mean it.”

He tries to ignore the warmth that spreads through his body at her gentle offer, but can’t quite pretend. 

Reaching out he squeezes her hand, only once, then lets go. “Likewise, Felicity.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cylon is the primary antagonist in the Battlestar Galactica series, both the original and 2003. I envisioned both Oliver and Felicity watching the 2003 series because it was AMAZING. Except for the finale, don't get me started, it's a sore point.
> 
> There's appx 3-4 chaps left. Much will occur. Angst. Fluff. Smooching. You name it. 
> 
> Thanks for reading. Your comments are greatly appreciated!


	10. dix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our relationship is and always will be platonic. - Oliver Queen

Things are strange when Felicity returns to work. She acts as normal as she always has, which is slightly-off kilter from the rest of the world that doesn’t function on her level, but otherwise is doing well. She smiles and pretends like she doesn’t have a deep cut above her eyebrow, responds with run-on sentences and topic jumps like a pro.

It’s everyone else that’s the problem. 

It starts when Oliver’s in the coffee shop across from the office Monday afternoon.

“I read that she drop kicked The Joker in the face,” says a tall lanky Latino.

“I heard she got shot.,” says a squat red-head.

“Seriously? How would she be moving around right now if she got shot?”

“You’re both wrong. She was never there to begin with,” says another guy with a gnarly looking beard. “She was probably chillin’ in some sweet place in the mountains or something.”

At this point, Oliver’s heard enough and simply clears his throat menacingly. The trio pause in their speculating and glance behind to see Oliver standing at his full height, scowling. They each develop matching looks of fear mixed with shame that never leave their faces as they quickly return across the street.

Excluding one good morning text, Oliver makes a point not to bother Felicity over the course of the day. He doesn’t typically visit her on Mondays and this should be no exception. He gets an email from her at the end of the day asking about when their meeting with Finance is supposed to be, but otherwise, nothing.

After swinging my the club on his way home, Oliver spots her jogging a couple miles from their apartments. Sprinting, more like it. She appears to be chasing some imaginary foe, or running from a demon, he isn’t sure.

Still, he continues on his way, preparing to go out and patrol that night. He and Digg manage to foil some Triad members before they can make an exchange by an abandoned factory, but it’s at great cost to his knee. When he hobbles into work the next morning, he finds a coffee sitting at his desk and a blonde lounging on the couch facing the windows.

“Figured I owed you a coffee for putting up with me all weekend,” Felicity offers, giving him a wan smile.

“You owe me nothing. It’s what friends are for, right?” Oliver sits gingerly, trying not to bend his knee too much. He pointedly ignores the warning alarm in his mind that tells him he’s never had a female friend before. _Ever._

“What’s wrong with your knee?” she’s by his side in seconds preparing to palpate the area when he slides his chair backward, prompting her to maintain her distance.

“I ran into the Triad last night. China White, to be specific.”

She frowns, her bottom lip slipping between her teeth. “Was Digg with you?”

“He doesn’t look much better. We were outnumbered and China White doesn’t fight clean.”

“What were you thinking?! You can’t —“

“Mr. Queen?” it’s Mrs. Harris, his no-nonsense EA who’s been at QC longer than most of the buildings in Starling City. “The Board Meeting is due to start in five minutes.”

“Yes ma’am,” Oliver replies quickly, glad for the interruption. Grabbing his coffee, he picks up his notepad and attempts to get from one place to the other with a modicum of dignity. 

Excluding the typical fanfare that greets Felicity whenever she returns, Oliver makes it clear at the onset of the meeting that all is well and that business is to continue as usual. 

After a couple days, the chatter dies down as a new topic of interest pops up. Felicity appears to breathe easier, giving him much lighter smiles and quicker laughter when she and Diggle are chatting quietly about something. 

Occasionally she follows them in the evenings to Oliver’s base of operations, quickly updating and organizing his tracking system as well as uploading new software that’s user friendly for both he and Diggle. She sticks around long enough to watch them take off, then makes sure to leave dinner for them upon return. Rarely does she wait for them to come back, something he suspects is due to her former days in Gotham.

On rare occasions like tonight, he’ll return to find her car parked outside. On those nights, it’s late and she’s typically sitting at the bar beside Tommy and/or Laurel, slightly glassy eyed with lose smiles and bubbly laughter. He tries not to begrudge her easy relationship with his past life, but the fact remains that he hurt Laurel deeply and Tommy still struggles with trusting him.

Even then, they still welcome him with open arms and an empty glass, especially on nights like this. 

“Heyyyyyyy,” Tommy grins as he holds up a tumbler for Oliver, pouring a couple fingers of quality Scotch that he keeps in his office. “What’s up Ollie? Need to turn that frown upside down?”

“Very funny,” Oliver replies as Laurel and Felicity turn to him, trying to school their features into serious appraisals but their pink cheeks and crooked smiles ruin it.

“Rough night?” Laurel quips. “Felicity was just telling us about the French model who dropped by the office this morning, looking for you.”

Felicity mimics the woman’s accent perfectly, “Allo? Can you tell me where Monsieur Oliver Queen works? I am to meet with him.”

Oliver rolls his eyes as Tommy bumps him in the shoulder. “Let me guess,” Tommy starts as he drinks from his glass of water, “I bet she was super tall, model thin, brunette, legs for days.”

Felicity’s mouth falls in wonder. “How’d you know that?”

“That’s Oliver’s type!” Laurel replies with a lazy grin that could border on dangerous if she were so inclined. “Well… usually. Unless she’s a Lance.”

Tommy gives her an unimpressed look and Oliver disregards her comment. Felicity steams ahead in her blissful disregard for social mores. “How did I just now realize that you have a type.!? Tall, leggy, brunettes. Minus the intelligence-level thing. Because Helena was nowhere near as brilliant as Gorgeous Laurel here, but Helena _does_ have that awful vindictive streak. Then again, I feel like you probably couldn’t handle —“ she cuts herself off, making multiple eyebrows raise. “Anyway… how was your day? Please? Tell me all the things, right now before I get myself in trouble.”

Turning his head to the side with it bowed, he tries hard not to smile, but can’t help it, letting out a soft chuckle. When he glances up, he tries to preschool his expression, but he laughs again, causing Tommy and Laurel to do the same.

“My day was fine, thank you for asking,” he replies, finally regaining his composure. “And the French woman is my cousin, Yvette. Tommy knows her as a matter of fact… Much, much better than I do.”

Tommy coughs on his drink, bringing the back of his hand up to prevent him from coughing more. “Wow, way to throw me under the bus there, buddy.”

“Wait, the same cousin who crashed her yacht in the Greece when you two were in college?” asks Laurel, her interest piqued. “If I recall correctly, she was arrested for that.”

“She was acquitted of all charges, thank you,” Tommy replies quickly. “And it was between high school and college. Remember that summer abroad?”

Oliver shakes his head, “Not really, to be honest.”

“This conversation keeps getting sadder and sadder,” Felicity states with a frown. “On that note, I have an Uber picking me up right… now.” As if on cue, her phone chimes with an alert. She hops off the stool and gives them all a salute. “Tommy, Laurel, it’s been a pleasure, thanks for a great time. Oliver… be safe. Make good choices.”

“Want me to pick you up in the morning so you can get your car?” Oliver asks before she exits.

“Sure. Brunch too? Because… well, best meal of the day.”

“Deal.” Oliver nods as she waves goodbye then looks back at Tommy and Laurel who wear matching looks of amusement. “What?”

“Brunch?”

“Since when do you like brunch?” Laurel asks as she leans into Tommy, creating a solid unit of mockery.

“Since… I don’t know. It’s food. I like food.”

They share a conspiratory look and grin mischievously. “Sure Ollie,” Tommy retorts. “It’s _totally_ the reason you’re getting up early on your day off.”

“Yes, because he’s such a _big fan_ of french toast and waffles and greasy food,” Laurel grins. “Definitely not because of the company you’d be keeping, oh no. Not that.”

“Guys…” Oliver frowns. “Don’t go there. Our relationship is and always will be platonic. Felicity is happily involved with Jacob. She’s just a really good friend.”

He conveys it in such a way that leaves no room for argument, but they both have expressions that tell him _this isn’t over_. 

“Alright man, if you say so,” Tommy replies smoothly. “I’ve got to shut down everything upstairs. You still good to receive the shipment tomorrow night? I’m taking my very fine lady here,” he playfully slips his fingers through Laurel’s, “out for a night on the town.”

Oliver nods assuredly as Tommy rises to climb the stairs for his office. Oliver takes the remaining glasses and places them in the dishwasher beneath the bar, trying to ignore Laurel’s gaze on him.

“It wouldn’t be bad, you know?” she says softly, head tilted to the side.

“What wouldn’t?”

“If you were with someone like Felicity,” she runs her fingers on the edge of the bar, gaze on him. “Granted, she’s with Jacob now… but she’s not married, yet. And I gotta say, she’s the only person I know that can make you laugh like that. Not even Thea can make you lighten up like she can.”

Crossing his arms, Oliver shakes his head. “Honestly, it’s not something I want to consider, going down that road with her. She’s taken. Not only that, I’m not really in a good place right now. I’m trying to… work on myself before I add another person to the mix.”

Before Oliver has to say anything further, Tommy flies down the stairs and drops to a halt in front of them, clapping his hands as he glances between the quiet pair. “Alright, what’d I miss?”

.::.

A couple weeks after his minor heart-to-heart with Laurel, Oliver finds himself extremely busy. He’s got an upcoming business trip to meet with the Russian side of the company as well as some _other_ less official matters to address. Not only that, he and Diggle have increased their nightly activities as more information unsurfaces about Deadshot. They have multiple crime concerns as well, but Oliver wants to do his part to help Diggle in his mission.

Felicity’s schedule isn’t much better. She’s been working overtime in R&D to get several gadgety things rolled out in time for Palmer Technology Fair, which is fast approaching. As a result, neither of them have seen each other often. 

Today is another matter, as Ray is in town to meet with her regarding the Fair as well as make his quarterly visit. He already gave Oliver a wrist watch that he’s trying to call a ‘Smartwearable’ but Oliver is pretty sure Felicity will veto that name in a heartbeat. 

Strolling across the lobby with Diggle, they chat with a couple employees briefly then head up to Felicity’s side of the building. They smartly opt for the elevator as both are a little worse for the wear and stairs don’t look too appealing. Instead of going to Felicity’s office, he opts to drop by Jeff, his CTO, and see how things are going before the big meeting that afternoon.

Oliver takes a seat in Jeff’s office, waiting as the man finishes setting up the prototypes he wants to show Oliver. Looking around, he realizes that he can see directly into Felicity’s office on the other side of the glass atrium. She’s pacing back and forth, arms wrapped tightly around herself. She stops when her door opens and in walks Jacob. From this distance, Oliver can’t tell if she’s happy to see him, but she does appear to be flummoxed if her hand gestures are anything to go by.

Jacob walks closer, holding up both his hands, looking like he’s trying to plead with her. Then he stops abruptly when Ray comes into her office. Oliver isn’t entirely sure what’s going on, but the three of them begin talking at the same time and he wonders if he should walk over to rescue her from whatever is occurring.

“Jeff, how about I grab Felicity for this?”

“What? Oh yeah, sure. She loves this one…” Jeff keeps talking as Oliver leaves Jeff’s office and walks down the corridor to Felicity’s office. 

“Mr. Queen, I’m not sure if right now is the best —“ Jerry starts, but Oliver holds up his hand, then cracks open the door to her office, sticking his head inside. Both Jacob and Ray, who seem to be speaking at the same time, halt their speech as they cast glances back at Oliver. Ray frowns and Jacob lets out a humorless laugh and rolls his eyes at the interruption.

When Oliver finally gets a good look at Felicity, her cheeks are flushed and her back is rigid, fists clenched tight. 

“Sorry to interrupt but —“

Before he can even get the rest out, she throws her hands up in the air and huffs loudly. “I can’t. I can’t do this right now. Not with any of you.”

She pushes past Jacob and Ray and squeezes past Oliver, leaving him feeling bewildered at best. Giving Jerry a look, she continues to the elevators where she opts for the stairs instead, which is saying something, given the shoes she’s wearing.

“What’s… going on?” Oliver inquires to the two men remaining in her office. They both exchange looks then turn back to Oliver.

“Differences of opinion,” Ray offers politically.

“Personal matters,” Jacob replies.

Oliver takes another step inside, allowing the door to shut behind him completely so Jerry won’t overhear.

“Well, with all do respect gentlemen, we have a company to run. Ray, I’m pretty sure she said she was meeting with all of us this afternoon in preparation for the Tech Fair. And Jacob? No offense, but work isn’t the place for that kind of thing,” Oliver says smoothly, trying not to come off as being condescending. “Now Jeff was about to go over some prototypes with me and Felicity, but since she isn’t here, would you like to join me Ray?”

The word ‘prototype’ makes Ray perk up immediately as he nods in agreement. Oliver turns back to Jacob, taking pity on the man who looks like his pet unicorn was kidnapped.

“Here, call this place and tell them Oliver Queen sent you,” he hands over a card for Veritas. “It’s a wine bar. Have Felicity meet you there after work. I think all things work better when she has wine in her system.” Oliver doesn’t give conscious thought that he actually had intended to take Felicity there sometime if they cut out of work early. Definitely not at nighttime, because that would’ve made it too date-like and excluding a few occasions he tries his best to keep his exposure to her in daytime hours.

Jacob takes the card, but not without leveling Oliver with a shrewd look. “Thank you. I’ll… look into it.”

Oliver nods then turns to the door, opening it for both Ray and Jacob to pass through. They bid good afternoon to Jacob then head to Jeff’s office where he invites them into his ‘workshop’. Granted, Ray may not be Felicity, but Oliver finds himself genuinely amused watching the man geek out over all the equipment Jeff throws his way.

.::.

It’s not until two days later that Oliver begins to curse both Jacob and Ray. The morning starts off pretty benign: Oliver walks Felicity to work, listening to her wax philosophic on the new season of Orphan Black. When he returns later that day he finds her staring at him over the course of the meeting. Not in a sexual way, more like, she’s lost in her thoughts and he happens to be sitting directly across from her.

She rises to leave shortly after the meeting, but not before stopping by his office first.

“So… how long are you going to be in Russia?” she’s not sitting in her usual chair which means she’s trying to make this quick. But there’s something about her posture… falsely casual, perhaps?

“Close to a month. I’ve got factory tours, inspections, then we’re surveying another site for expansion…” he runs his hand over his face, frowning at the thought. “I also have some other business to attend to there, but nothing that will take away from QC.”

She nods, biting her lip as she absorbs his words. “And you’re leaving me here with Isabel?”

Oliver frowns, holding up his hands plaintively. “Hey, I didn’t choose her. The Board did.”

“I don’t know Oliver… there’s just something about her,” Felicity starts, then clamps her mouth shut as she glances down at the ground, tapping the back of the chair.

She waffles for several long seconds, causing Oliver to grow concerned. “Felicity? Is there something the matter?”

When she looks up at him, he finally catches sight of the bounty of emotions she keeps under lock and key. It nearly takes his breath away. Soon enough, her mask is in place and she offers him a pleasant smile, shaking her head once. 

“It’s uh… well the thing is,” she starts and stops, not finding the words to say. Before she can get it out, her phone chirps in her hand. Glancing at the screen, she frowns quickly then glances up at him. “Sorry, I’ve got to go. I think one of our servers is crashing.”

“Felciity?”

“Right uh… find me later. We need to talk.”

And then she’s gone.

Unfortunately, later turns into two days and then it’s late Thursday night. He’s not sure why, but he takes a chance swinging by Felicity’s office before he heads home. With Digg beside him, they ascend the stairs to the umpteenth floor to her office, walking quietly around the floor. There’s still several people at work, which surprises Oliver, but then again Felicity created a flex schedule to accommodate those who prefer to work at night, much like herself.

The lights are mostly off in her office except for her desk lamp. Through the glass wall, Oliver spots her standing at the floor to ceiling windows, looking out over the city. Her arms are crossed and her back is rigid once again. Opening her door, he steps inside silently, trying to figure out how to break the silence.

“I was wondering when you’d finally show up.” Felicity says from her position at the window, still facing outward.

“What’s going on?”

Her head bows for a moment, and then she walks to her couch and takes a seat. Oliver follows suit, keeping a respectful distance.

Looking up at him, she lets out a breath mingled with a weak laugh as she rolls her eyes. “The… other day. When I…”

“When you left during the middle of work…”

“Right. That… so what you walked in on was essentially a two sided attack of competing interests.”

Oliver leans forward, concerned. “Competing _how_?”

“It’s no secret that Ray intends to expand to China. The thing is… he wants me to run the office there.”

The thought has crossed his mind multiple times, but he always assumed, or hoped, that Ray would send Sven and Troy instead. He’s not sure he’ll be able to work well with the pair if they are to be her replacement. He doesn’t want a replacement though, he just wants her.

“When will you know for sure?” Oliver asks quietly, trying to ignore the way his throat tightens.

“That’s the tricky part…” Felicity holds up her finger while her other reaches for a chain that is tucked beneath her blouse. 

Oliver’s stomach drops immediately when he realizes what she has clasped between her fingers with the chain threaded through it.

“Jacob… asked me to marry him,” she releases sharply, not meeting his gaze, “but it’s with the added bonus that he may have done so because he was offered this amazing job in Dubai… and he wants me to go with him.”

Without realizing he was holding his breath, Oliver exhales slowly. His brain function rolls to a halt as thoughts dart about in his mind chaotically. Then her words finally settle and he narrows his eyes, looking back up at her.

“Wait, did he ask you to marry him because he loves you and wants to be with you forever, or because he wants to take this job in Dubai and he doesn’t want to lose you?”

She finally looks up at him, darting her eyebrows upward as she shrugs. “Great question, one that’s been circling my head for days. Definitely makes a girl feel special, that’s for sure.”

Nodding, Oliver leans back on the couch, letting out a huff of air. Either way, it means Felicity is leaving, which… well, he doesn’t want to think about it right now. 

They sit quietly with their thoughts for a couple minutes until Oliver breaks the silence. “So either way, you’re leaving?”

Felicity’s head tilts to the side as she looks at him closely, maybe more than she should. “I’m pretty sure I can negotiate with Ray, so that’s not my primary concern. That doesn’t mean I won’t have frequent business trips, however.”

He nods again, stopping his fingers when he realizes they’re rubbing against each other on his thigh. “So then it’s to get married…”

“Or lose him all together,” she murmurs, gaze fixed in her lap.

Before he can say anything further, Diggle sticks his head inside the office. 

“Sorry to interrupt, but if you want to catch that shipment at the docks Oliver, we need to leave soon.”

Rising slowly, he reaches out and places his hand on her shoulder, squeezing once before turning to the door. He doesn’t want to leave, but he desperately wants time with his thoughts. Just before he reaches the door, he stops and says the one thing that just won’t stop ricocheting around in his mind.

“One thing to consider? The fact that you’re still wearing that ring around your neck instead of on your finger? That says a lot.”

She cuts her gaze away from him clamping down on her bottom lip as she looks upward, blinking back tears. 

With nothing left to offer, Oliver vacates her office, preparing to take out things that go bump in the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want people to remember the summary. Not fear it. Kind of like a 'famous last words' kind of thing. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Comments are lovely, if you're so inclined.


	11. 11!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happiness isn’t something that happens to you. It’s something you have to want. That you have to work for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this beast of a chapter a couple weeks ago. When I went through the editing process, I realized it was taking the story down a much darker, much longer journey. So I scrapped it.  
> WHICH IS UTTERLY DISHEARTENING.  
> As a result, you're getting this much later than usual.

When Oliver touches down in Starling City close to midnight, he feels a pressing sense of dread come over him. He’s returned five days early due to an urgent phone conference between him, Felicity, and Walter Steele earlier that day while he was in St. Petersburg. It went something along the lines like this:

“Oliver, get your ass back here ASAP, the She Devil is planning a coup tomorrow morning to oust you from the company.”

“WHAT!?”

“What Ms. Smoak is trying to say is that Ms. Rochev is convening a special board meeting tomorrow to hold a vote of confidence in your leadership. The early-release of the faulty microchip was an error in judgment that the investors are not too pleased with.”

“I disagreed with the release! How is this on me!?” Oliver paces the room like a caged panther, his free hand clenched at his side.

“We think that Isabel has someone tailing you and leaking photos to the media back here,” Felicity posits. “She’s only managed to get traction in the last week after the clip of you leaving that nightclub with three supermodels made the media rounds. She's making it seem like you're going back to your old ways, leaving your company to flounder.”

Frowning, Oliver sighs. “I had nothing to do with those models. I have a friend who… arranged for them to accompany me.”

“Oliver, we don’t need any excuses," Walter replies. "You need to return quickly. If this goes through, it could be a devastating loss for your family financially. Combined, you, your sister, and your mother hold 51% of the shares in this company. But without you…”

Oliver hates the foreboding tone in Walter’s voice, knowing that the man is correct. “I’ll be on the next flight out.” 

A lifetime later, Oliver and Diggle arrive at QC with much to do and little time in which to accomplish it. His first stop is not his office, but Felicity's. Oliver walks up to the glass door to her office and pauses at the threshold. 

She’s asleep, face braced lightly on her arm, glasses askew. He glances at Diggle who shrugs, both uncertain if they should enter. Knowing there’s no way she should stay here, he enters quietly and stops just before reaching her desk. Her breaths are deep but her hand is wrapped around a highlighter which has bled all over the document she was reviewing, creating a ghastly pink pool all over the paper.

Oliver reaches down to grab the cap and the highlighter from her hand, but is surprised at how quickly she reacts — latching on to his wrist and torquing it painfully until he’s frowning in pain as she slowly comes to herself. Once she realizes it’s Oliver’s wrist she’s attempting to break, she releases it quickly, looking sheepish.

“Sorry. Blame years spent with Batman. I have crazy muscle memory,” she straightens her glasses, letting out a yawn. “Welcome back.”

Nodding, Oliver takes a seat in the chair opposite her, rubbing his wrist. Felicity rises from her desk and goes to a large work table nearby thats covered in neatly stacked documents and colorful folders. Felicity prefers tables to file cabinets, liking to see everything she needs all at once instead of digging for it.

“Not sure how tired you are, but I have a crash course in everything you’ll need to prepare you for tomorrow. Here is the last quarterly report for you as well as the reviews of the micro —“

“How are you?” Oliver interrupts, unable to focus on the documents before him due to Felicity’s appearance. She looks wan, exhausted and frail. Her clothes hang off her thin frame, her hair is dull, and the dark circles beneath her eyes tell of sleepless nights and sadness.

“How am I?” She blinks at him owlishly, the question not registering fully. 

“Yes. I know we spoke last weekend, but it was all work-related. I want to know how  _you_  are.”

“I’m fine,” she shrugs dismissively. “Tired. That’s all.”

“Felicity…”

“Oliver, please don’t do this right now,” she says quietly, broken. “I’ve been fighting battles and putting out fires for weeks now. Let’s just… get through the next twenty four hours and save your company.”

“And then you’ll rest?”

Felicity grabs another folder and takes her seat, giving him a stiff smile. “And then I’ll rest.”

 

.::.

 

The following afternoon Oliver sits with Walter Steele, basking in the glow of a battle well won. Not only did he have the element of surprise and a glorious victory, he also had the benefit of several board members making motions to have Isabel terminated. 

“I’ll tell you what Oliver, that was a masterful display in that boardroom, absolutely perfect,” Walter smiles at him over a tumbler full of bourbon. “When I spoke with your mother earlier, she sounded quite proud of you and was very sad she had to miss it.”

Unable to help the flush of pride at the older man’s words, Oliver nods and takes a sip from his own drink. “I’m just glad you and Felicity called when you did. She actually stayed last night and helped me prepare for this morning.”

Oliver shakes his head at the thought of it, the image flashing through his mind of her smiling brightly at him at the conclusion of his speech that morning. So lost in his thoughts, he misses the speculative look Walter gives him.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you… about Ms. Smoak,” Walter takes another sip and sets down his glass. “We’ve offered to supplement her income from Palmer in order to prevent her from taking the position in China.”

Glancing up sharply, Oliver keeps quiet as Walter continues on.

“She was instrumental in handling the microchip disaster, she managed to recoup the stock losses in less than eight days, and not only that, she sold two patents far under value to Jeff for him to market for our company in the wake of that mess. Not only that, she had a team working three days straight until they created the patches for our firewall when we had a breach last week. I tell you, Oliver, she’s remarkable.”

“I am very well aware of that.”

“Then I would like to tell you this now,” Walter leans forward, leveling Oliver with a square look. “She refused the bonus.”

Oliver’s brow furrows at this news, his stomach bottoming out at the indication of what this means. She made her decision then. China it is.

Suddenly his 30 year old scotch doesn’t taste so good anymore. He knocks it back, enjoying the burning trail down his throat.

“So that’s it then. She stayed long enough to clean up this mess and now she’s going to go,” Oliver states plainly, hoping the tightness in his chest will dissipate soon.

“Actually, she’s staying. She refused the money because she said it was her responsibility to do what it took to look out for Palmer  _and_  Queen Consolidated. She feels very strongly that you are the best man for this job.” Walter leans back in his chair again, giving Oliver a slow smile. “She also said that you’re her partner, and partners always have each other’s backs.”

No matter what he does, Oliver can’t help the upward tick of the corner of his mouth at Walter’s words. It sounds so very  _Felicity_  that he can nearly imagine her saying it.

The two gentlemen continue to talk for a few minutes longer, both agreeing to have weekly lunch meetings as a way for Walter to mentor Oliver in the art of business and finance.

Jet lag finally taking it’s toll, Oliver heads home with Diggle leading the way. They stop by Big Belly Burger and pick up a feast then decide to swing by Felicity’s. She left after the board meeting that morning, wisely deciding to start her weekend a tad early.

Diggle knocks on the door and the two wait after hearing series of thumps, a curse, and the twisting of several locks to reveal a very sleepy looking Felicity. Her head tilts to the side in confusion as she takes them in, both dressed casually and holding bags of food.

“Hi?”

“Hey, we just wanted to uh,” Oliver glances down, wishing he’d planned this better, the bags in his hands help him push ahead. “We wanted to bring you dinner.”

The wisp of a smile that crosses her face is a mere glimmer of what it once was. “Sure, come on in, fellas.”

The two pass her and halt upon entering. Her living area has about a dozen boxes piled up against the far wall, making Oliver’s eyebrows dart upward in surprise.

“What’s all this?” Diggle asks as he steps further into the living area.

Felicity collects the bags from the two of them and walks into the kitchen to get plates and glasses. “Since I’m becoming a permanent resident of Starling City, I brought the rest of my things here.”

Permanent resident.

_Right_. She’s single now. Single in the sense that she’s in the midst of mourning a three-year relationship with a man she was/is in love with. 

She elaborates no further, but the simplicity of her statement belies a month of heartbreak and tears and sleepless nights. Diggle exchanges a knowing look as they remove their jackets. Producing a bottle of wine Oliver was saving for a special occasion, he hands it to Felicity, waiting for her to realize what it is.

Predictably so, she covers her mouth in surprise, looking up at him blankly. “Lafite Rothschild?! What’s the occasion?”

“To celebrate your decision to remain here as opposed to taking one of the many opportunities offered you,” she ducks her head so that he cannot see her expression “…That and to thank you for calling me back when you did. I might have been without a company otherwise.”

She looks up at him and rolls her eyes, sighing. “I swear, that evil woman is the absolute  _worst_. She had the nerve to recommend a good hair stylist to me before she left. Ugh!”

Running his eyes over her messy bun, he can see her roots creeping out where they’re normally completely non-existent. He wisely chooses to disregard and takes their plates to the table. Oliver notes how much food she heaped on their plates compared to the small pile on hers. Normally she eats almost as much as Digg.

When they settle around the table, she lets out a long sigh and holds up her glass to the two men and says quietly, “To new chapters.”

“And partnership,” he watches her as he says it, her eyes flashing in acknowledgement.

“New chapters and partnership,” Diggle states as they all clink glasses, taking a sip of the full-bodied wine.

“Now,” Felicity squirms in her seat, folding a leg up to her chest as she snags a fry, “I need to know two things: how is Lyla?” Oliver ignores a glare Diggle sends him. “ And how exactly did the Russian press capture Oliver kissing not one, but three women in the span of five minutes?”

Oliver and Diggle both exchange chagrined looks as they settle in for a night of being roasted by Felicity Smoak.

 

.::.

 

It’s not until three weeks later that Felicity finishes an entire meal. 

He uses her appetite as a gauge of how she’s doing. Then she mentions something about not having gone to the grocery store in over two weeks. 

Disheartened, Oliver drops by her office to coax her out of the building before eight that night, promising her a new top secret flavor at the gelataria near the grocery market.

“But I am le tired,” Felicity huffs as she twists her hair and tosses it behind her shoulder, spinning in her desk chair.

“And you are also hungry. Come on, I promise you, the work will keep,” Oliver reaches over and grabs her cell phone, the only thing that will distract her.

“Hey!”

“Come on. Let’s go.”

“Just another…”

“Nope. Now. Ray told me that if you continue staying this late, he was going to send Sven and what’s his face to relieve you of your duties.”

“It’s  _Troy_  and no he didn’t,” Felicity rebuts even as she stands, locking down her computer. “We’re rolling out the second gen of his smartwatch in less than two weeks.”

“ _Smartwearable_ , you mean?” Oliver smirks as she rolls her eyes.

“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

Oliver makes a face of mock offense at her.“What, spending time with me? Never.”

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll see.”

 

.::.

 

Felicity still keeps her boundaries. She helps them out occasionally with Arrow business. More often than not, she volunteers her services but Oliver declines.

“It’s not safe and I can’t keep my eye and you and on the bad guys.”

“How do you know I can’t take care of myself?”

“Can you? Oliver challenges, stepping up to her, only a few inches separating them. She steps back, not out of discomfort, but because he isn’t wearing a shirt and she’s probably not too into sweat getting all over her well-fitted work dress that brings out her eyes  _just so_.

Shaking his head, he realizes Felicity is speaking, but he wasn’t attending, “so if you’re going to go all caveman on me every time I offer to help you, then we need to stop this whole thing right now because I don’t have the time or energy to argue with you.”

Oliver frowns and gets quiet, trying to reconcile himself with agreeing to put her into harms way. He’s not too keen on this plan.

“Let me think about it,” he says to appease her.

She grins triumphantly, like she knows something he doesn’t. Spinning on her heel, she heads toward the exit of the lair.

“See you two tonight,” she says as she waves goodbye to Diggle.

Brow furrowed, Oliver glances at Diggle. “What just happened?”

“I’m pretty sure you were just Smoaked.”

“I’m pretty sure she’ll empty your bank account if she ever catches you saying that.” Oliver shakes his head, then grabs onto the bar and begins climbing the salmon ladder again. “There’s absolutely no way she won that. None.”

She comes on the mission with them the following night. It goes spectacularly.

 

.::.

 

“Great work the past couple months Oliver. I must say, having you and Felicity teamed up as the face of our cybersecurity campaign has all our investors quite pleased,” Ray says as Walter takes a seat beside him at the conference table. As they wait for Felicity to join them, Ray gifts the two men with a SmartWatch.

“What can I say? She’s a great partner,” Oliver snaps on the watch, carefully keeping his face blank under Ray’s scrutiny. 

Ray called Oliver earlier in the week asking for a wellness update on Felicity. Since she doesn't have a boyfriend in Central City to return home to every other weekend, her visits back are few and far between. Oliver knows she misses Ray and Anna dearly, but he also knows that she still hasn’t forgiven herself for putting Anna in danger all those months ago when the Joker reappeared.

Blinking, Oliver is shaken from his thoughts and Ray’s stare as Felicity arrives with two other men dressed in well cut suits. She smiles up at one of them as he opens the door for her, the man’s fingers pressing lightly along the small of her back as she walks through.

Oliver’s eyes narrow on this contact, but it clears almost immediately as he catches sight of the other man who came with them.

“Peter Monroe? God, how long has it been?” Oliver stands to greet him, smiling earnestly as he takes in the other man’s appearance. Once as skinny as a beanpole, Peter has filled out and grown facial hair where it once stubbornly used to grow in sparse patches. 

“Ten years, easy,” Peter’s grip is firm as he smiles back at Oliver. “It seems we both have benefited from time passing. You finally got rid of that awful haircut.”

“And you finally found a gym,” Oliver smirks as they take a seat, glancing around the table at the others who wear matching expressions of interest and confusion.

“Oliver and I attended boarding school together,” Peter offers as Oliver shakes his head.

“Peter is the only reason Tommy and I stayed alive long enough to graduate… that and large donations from our parents.”

“It was probably the donations,” Peter adds as Walter’s EA slides folders around the table in front of each of the executives. 

“Then it’s a good thing you can vouch for Mr. Monroe work ethic,” Walter says to Oliver. “I’ve just invited him to be my deputy since we’ve let Ms. Rochev go.”

“ _Coughgoodriddancecough,”_ Felicity says from her seat beside Ray who casts her a look of commiseration.

Oliver rolls his eyes at her and slides his gaze over to the gentleman who held the door earlier, waiting for an introduction. He looks to be of Latin American decent, with buzzed hair and dark brown eyes. He nods to Oliver as Ray places a hand on the man’s shoulder.

“This is Luca Dominguez, he’s an old classmate of mine. Felicity and I have appointed him as the Vice President for our China offices.”

The man smiles once again as Ray slaps him on the shoulder. Felicity grins knowingly at the other man which makes Oliver wonder how long they’ve known each other prior to this meeting. Instead of wanting to ask all the questions hopping around in his mind, he tilts his head in acknowledgement and taps the table once. “Welcome, Mr. Dominguez. We look forward to working with you in the future. I hope you enjoy your stay here in Starling City.”

“I’m from a small town on the outskirts of here, actually,” Luca replies smoothly, “but thank you for the warm welcome. It’s been good to visit my family.”

“Excellent,” Walter smiles as he opens his folder. “Let’s take a look at the upcoming fiscal cycle and ensure that our rollout dates are where we want them to be. Then we can have Luca and Felicity talk about what to expect from the China branch.”

Oliver settles into his seat, but doesn’t miss the way the man’s eyes seem to meet Felicity’s over the course of the meeting. He also doesn’t miss the familiar touches between them at the meeting’s conclusion either. The only thing that saves Oliver from showing his concern is the presence of his old friend at the table, and the watchful eyes of Walter and Ray.

Later that evening, Peter drops by Oliver's office with a bottle of Scotch. When they were younger, Peter was always the one reminding them to do their work and get to class. Never much of a drinker, he almost always volunteered to be DD. Unfortunately, he never had the same charisma as Oliver and Tommy, easily fading into the background when they were around.

“What’s the occasion?” Oliver asks as Peter walks to Oliver’s bar in search of tumblers.

“Me, finally having a job that has nothing to do with my parents. My father still won’t talk to me,” Peter states as he pours them each a healthy serving.

“They  _do_  own all the luxury hotels in this part of the country. It’s only natural they’d assume —“

“I have four other siblings who work for them. I’m pretty sure they don’t need me as well.”

“So why’d you agree to work here then?”

Peter lets out a sigh, running his hand over his beard. “When you were gone, I actually interned at your company when I was getting my MBA. Walter was my mentor.”

“Oh,” Oliver frowns, surprised. “I had no idea. Why didn’t you stick around?”

“Dad had the heart attack… you know how it is. But he’s better and more of a bastard than he ever was, so I dropped my papers a couple months ago, traveled a bit, then responded to Walter when he gave me the call.”

Nodding, Oliver takes all this in. “Well, I’m glad to have you here at the company. You, me, and Tommy should meet up for dinner this week.”

“Definitely. I hear Tommy is with Laurel now,” Peter raises an eyebrow. "What's that like?"

"Eh, they're good for each other. Tommy lightens her up, Laurel gives him focus. It's a good fit. What about you?"

Peter shrugs, frowning. "I was engaged a few years back. But we broke it off a couple weeks beforehand. Nothing dramatic, just... didn't go through with it."

"And now?"

"I dunno, it's hard to see myself feeling that strongly about anyone again. I think the older you get, the more gravity you give that type of decision. I just... don't know if there's someone out there for me," he sighs, taking another sip. He always was the more sensitive of the three of them. "You?"

Oliver shakes his head. “Don’t really have much time for relationships. I date on occasion, but nothing’s ever really stuck.”

“What about Felicity? You get along well with her, but she might be too smart for you... no offense,” Peter says without guise. 

“No. She’s my business partner… she’s a good friend and I’d like to keep it that way.”

Peter’s eyebrows dart upward. “Wow, never thought I’d see the day that Oliver Queen would have an attractive female friend and not try to get with her.”

“Ha, ha,” Oliver sighs, tossing a balled up piece of paper at Peter. “Besides, she’s just come of of this longterm relationship about four months ago. She’s still bouncing back and everything.”

“So you  _have_ thought about it. Don’t want to be a rebound?”

Oliver raises a finger, narrowing his eyes. “ _No_  I haven’t, and no I absolutely do not.”

“Lot’s of Nos. You sure, buddy?”

Shaking his head, Oliver downs the rest of his drink, not even flinching against the burn. “One hundred percent.”

 

.::.

 

A month passes and very few things change. Which is nice for Oliver, having all things in their proper places in his life. Thea’s doing alright at the club, dating that knucklehead, Roy. His mom is running their charity organization, rebuilding the glades and is about to open a new school. And with the return of Peter, Oliver and Tommy are on much better terms lately. 

He sees Felicity at work, occasionally on the weeknights, and sporadically on weekends. Nothing further ever came of Luca since he left for China a couple days later after that initial meeting. Which is good, because, Felicity works with that guy and it would be totally unprofessional of her to… do whatever with him.

Everything is going well overall until several things happen all at once: an old nemesis returns, the city catches on fire, and residents are running around high on vertigo. It is then that Oliver gets badly injured in a motorcycle accident, yet continues to fight on a busted knee.

“Screw the Count and forget the Triad, we need to get out of here man, this warehouse is going to go up in flames at any moment,” Diggle whispers from beside Oliver, both crouched behind a crate. 

“Just a couple more minutes. I need to know if China W—“

A loud explosion sends them both backwards, Oliver bouncing off a nearby crate and striking his head, while Diggle hits a concrete pillar, collapsing to the ground.

When Oliver comes to, it is to the face of one very angry Felicity Smoak.

“I swear, if you didn’t look so awful right now, I’d punch you in the face,” she grits out menacingly. “What were you thinking!? Going into that building, just the two of you, without backup!? I thought we agreed a couple months ago that you didn’t need to be taking unnecessary risks.”

Oliver tries to reply, but his tongue is thick and his movements are slow. “I just… wanted to uh, to uhhhh know who had the uh, the stuff.”

“The Vertigo?” Felicity prompts, looking nonplussed.

“Yeah, that. Yep,” Oliver feels a wave of nausea sweep over him. “What’ssss wrong wi’ me?”

Felicity frowns and her angry facade gives way to some unspoken fear. “Oliver, that crate you were crouching behind was loaded with Vertigo. You and Diggle received enough hits to kill a horse.”

“Dig?” Oliver tries to sit up, but nothing is working properly. “Where’s he?”

“I took him to the hospital. He wasn’t doing so good,” she whispers. “His uh… Lyla is with him right now.”

“Where’m I?”

“The foundry. Tommy had to help me get you back here,” she says just as someone starts coming down the stairs. Felicity’s face becomes carefully blank as Tommy appears beside her, hand wrapped around her shoulder.

“Hey Ollie,” he says quietly, “how you feeling?”

“Like I got blown up.’

“You kinda did, man,” Tommy smiles, but it’s sad. “Listen, Detective Lance has a suspect in custody. The building you and Diggle were in is pretty much dust, but Laurel says there’s enough evidence to lock this guy away for a while.”

“Good,” Oliver murmurs, feeling the haze of strong drugs pull him back under.

When he wakes again, it’s to an excessive amount of pain in his knee. He sits up, clutching the offended joint, scowling. Glancing around, he waits for his vision to clear as his gaze settles across the room where Felicity is curled up in a ball on the cot. Her hair is loose, wild curls curtained around her face, a thick blanket wrapped securely around her.

Feeling adventurous, he turns, letting his feet fall to the floor gingerly. Standing, he tests his weight out on his throbbing knee, knowing he’s going to have to give in sooner or later and get it looked at. Hobbling to the computers Felicity has set up, he learns that he’s been out for nearly two days. Oliver frowns at this knowledge and looks around for a shirt, feeling the coolness of the Foundry settling deep in his bones.

He spots a sweatshirt near the cot and carefully makes his way over, doing his best not to put pressure on his injured leg. Once he has the sweatshirt over his head, he glances down just as Felicity let’s out a long sigh, turning on her side. 

Unbidden, his hand reaches out to tuck some loose hair behind her ear, the pads of his fingers lingering on her cheek a moment too long. Bringing her into wakefulness, Oliver’s heart stops as she blinks long and slow, a sleepy smile crossing her face when she sees him kneeling above her. That well worn, droopy smile and bed mussed hair will chase him into his dreams for weeks to come.

“Mmmm, hey, what’s —“ her sleep-thick voice is low as she quickly becomes more alert. “What are you doing up!? Oliver your knee is gigantic right now.” Darting upward, she sweeps herself beneath his arm and escorts him to the nearest chair.

“Thanks,” he settles carefully as she gets another chair to elevate his leg, her bottom lip caught between her teeth like she’s holding back a whole slew of chastisement.

Instead, she straightens and crosses her arms, leveling him with a disappointed look at his sheer recklessness. It’s more powerful than any number of things she could have said. 

Unable to bear her gaze any longer, Oliver ducks his head and sighs. “I know. I’ll… be more careful next time something like this happens. Seriously.”

The words sound hollow, just like her goodbye when she leaves a short while later after ensuring he’s good for the night.

Oliver spends the next 72 hours brooding and using the salmon ladder. 

Things remain tense between them long after Diggle returns.

 

.::.

 

Just before the end of summer, everyone gathers at Oliver and Thea’s condo for a summer  soirée .

There’s no particular reason, other than it’s the end of summer, and why not? So they invite the people they enjoy, not the people have to bear. It’s a strange collection of people, the old money, the quietly brilliant, the posh and colorful. It makes for an interesting sight.

Tommy’s been giving Oliver the hairy eye all night, which prompts a quiet escape out on the balcony.

“What’s going on? You look like you’re about to shit a diamond,” Oliver says as he leans against the balcony, knocking back a gin and tonic.

“Yeah, well maybe because I did,” Tommy holds up a ring that’s demure and classic, just like it’s recipient. Oliver’s takes the ring and lets out a low whistle, giving Tommy a warm smile.

“I’m proud of you man, this is a big step,” Oliver exhales, handing it back over. “The  _right_ step.”

“Yeah, it feels good, I feel ready, she’s ready. It’s time.”

Oliver blinks, pushing off from the railing. “Wait. You mean right now? You’re going to propose tonight?”

“Why not? Everyone we care about is here,” Tommy shrugs as the door opens and others filter out behind him. “I had this big elaborate plan made up. I was gonna fly us up the coast, stay at this bed and breakfast, cover the bed in rose petals, then ask her."

Heart thundering in his chest, partially at this knowledge but also because this is the first time Tommy is doing something major in his life without Oliver. He swallows and then urges Tommy on, “what happened then?”

“She got buried at work with all that Count Vertigo madness. Had to cancel. Do you know how hard it is to get rid of ten dozen roses inconspicuously?” Tommy sighs. “By the way, there are nine women in this city who think you have a crush on them. Except Laurel. Her’s were from me.”

Oliver shakes his head, punching Tommy in the shoulder lightly, “That explains why my phone blew up a couple weeks ago. Thanks a lot.”

“Eh, I'm a romantic. What can I say?”

“Will you marry me?” says a feminine voice from behind Tommy, causing them both to turn that direction. “That’s what you could say, Tommy.”

Laurel’s standing alone, tears in eyes that only see Tommy, and a smile that breaks Oliver’s heart all over again. Oliver backs inside quietly as Tommy walks up to Laurel and wipes away a tear falling down her cheek, then drops to one knee. He doesn’t listen to his best friend’s heartfelt words, or Laurel’s response, but he can tell by the very intimate kiss and embrace that they are certainly engaged.

“Wow, Tommy finally took the plunge,” says Felicity to his right, shamelessly watching them through the window. “Did you know that he’s had that ring for like… nine months? Nine! It could have had a baby in that amount of time.”

Oliver looks down at her, shaking his head at her silliness. Her smile falls when she sees the look on his face. 

“Hey, you okay?” she bites her lip as she grabs his arm, pulling him away from the chatter. He follows her because she’s wearing this stupidly beautiful plum colored, knee-length dress that flows and looks so very soft.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he leans against the wall as Felicity mirrors his actions, crossing her arms. “You’re okay with them getting married, right? I mean, it’s not like no one saw this coming.”

Nodding, Oliver drops his head and looks to the ground for a way to form his thoughts. “Yeah, it’s just… it finally hit me that they’re moving on in their lives and —“ he cuts himself off, not wanting to voice his fears. Instead, he purses his lips in thought, clenching his jaw tightly. For a couple minutes, he feels her gaze on his face and knows that she can see straight through him.

“Is it more that you’re afraid they’ll leave you behind and forget you?” she asks quietly as she takes a step closer into his field of vision, “Or, are you afraid that you’re never going to meet someone to share that type of life with?”

The number of warning bells that go off in his mind at her questions causes a wave a dizziness and makes him shake his head at the sudden cacophony. He blinks hard and opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. 

Absolutely nothing.

She continues to watch him, her calm expression melting into slow amusement as she realizes she stumped him. By the time a mischievous grin creeps over her face he just sighs and shakes his head at her.

“I honestly have no—“

“Everyone I have the greatest of all announcements to make!” Tommy jumps up on Oliver’s very nice, very expensive dining table and does a little tap dance. “This beautiful, smart, amazingly sexy woman, Ms. Laurel Lance, has agreed to become my wife!”

Cheers erupt while Laurel laughs as Tommy jumps off the table and sweeps her up in to a hug, dipping her quickly before planting a kiss solidly on her lips.

“Wow, that was a smooth move,” says Peter as he comes up beside Oliver and Felicity. “Did you know he was going to propose tonight?”

“No, it was kind of an accident,” Oliver replies as Peter grins. 

“Funny that,” Peter muses. “I often find that the most memorable, most unexpected moments of life are born out of accidents.”

“I’ll drink to that!” Felicity holds up her glass and clinks it with Peter’s. Oliver grabs a glass from a passing server, joining them in their toast. 

“To memorable accidents,” Peter says warmly, smiling at Oliver and then Felicity. She turns to Oliver and gives him that wicked smile again, “To memorable accidents.”

He takes a sip of the champagne, letting the bubbles settle on his tongue as Peter manages to distract Felicity from her dangerous line of questioning. Soon enough Diggle joins them and then Tommy and Laurel are gathered round and they take the party to the rooftop, grabbing bottles of alcohol as they go.

A couple hours later, the party has long since died down. All that remain on the rooftop are Diggle, Felicity and Oliver, the three of them sitting around a bottle-covered table. They’ve been swapping stories of crazy missions and close calls for over an hour, matching glasses of wine or scotch to a given story. 

Diggle’s phone rings, prompting him to make a face of concern upon glancing at the screen. “It’s Lyla. Looks like she finally wrapped up her mission. Mind if I take this downstairs? Might be a bit.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Oliver replies as Diggle smiles in thanks and makes a hasty departure.

Glancing at Felicity, Oliver can’t help the lazy smile that crosses his face, seeing the exact same mirrored back at him. He’s learned that her eyes always get a little droopy when she’s tipsy, something that brings him infinite amusement when he tries to get her to wink. 

Which he does right now.

She scrunches up her face at him, making a huff of displeasure. “Why d’you always do that? You know I can’t wink!”

“Because it’s really fun watching you try,” he winks once again, grinning when she scoffs.

The silence falls comfortably between them as they take in the view and listen to the sounds of the city. 

“This is nice,” Oliver says quietly as Felicity stands somewhat unsteadily, placing her hand on his shoulder for stability as she reaches past him to grab the nearly empty wine bottle. She straightens, but doesn’t pull her hand away, giving him a confused look. 

“What? Dinner?”

“Yeah. Dinner, good food, good friends, all of it. It’s nice,” Oliver states as she turns and empties the last of the wine into her glass. She faces him again and repeats the same maneuver as before, returning the bottle to the table. 

When she straightens, she keeps her hand on his shoulder, but the look on her face is different this time. More serious, less playful.

“Are you happy?” she asks softly, head tilting to the side.

“Is anyone?” Oliver shoots back without thinking. Her lips thin in dissatisfaction, making him regret his blasé response.

“I’m serious, Oliver. Are you happy?”

He glances down to his lap, his hands tightening from their resting position on his thighs. “That’s a loaded question.”

“No,” her other hand cups his jaw and tilts his face upwards as she steps closer between his legs. He can smell the wine on her breath and knows that were they both more sober she wouldn’t be standing this close to him. “It really isn’t. Happiness isn’t something that happens to you. It’s something you have to want. That you have to work for.”

“You don’t think I want it?”

“I think you don’t want to take the risk to get it… because you don’t think you deserve to be happy,” she says as she lets the hand on his shoulder slide down to his chest, resting over his heart. “Sometimes, it seems like you have a robot heart, the way you shut off your emotions. It’s a great asset to have when being the Arrow is all you have. The thing is, you’ve got so much more than that — friends who love and care for you, a sister who absolutely adores you, a proud mother... I just wish you’d let yourself experience it once in a while.”

"Robot heart?" he ignores the gravel in his throat, pushing on,"I do have feelings, you know." Oliver continues to absorb her words, feeling a sense of longing and unworthiness rush over him. 

She must see it in his features, because she glides her hand across his forehead, soothing the worry away. 

“I don’t doubt that, but you also have this crazy huge guilt complex that doesn’t allow you to feel any sort of joy for an extended period. Losing yourself to a faceless war means nothing if it's guilt that drives you. Because this reckless need you have to sacrifice yourself for the sake of others? It’s not worth it. I guarantee it.”

“How do you know? How can you judge who is or isn’t worth the try?” Oliver tilts his head back, jaw clenching. He wants to push her away, but his body won’t cooperate. His hands itch to bring her closer.

“There’s a difference between sacrificing yourself for a loved one and some random person. I’ve had dear friends get in the way of this bullet or that knife because they thought it was their  _job_. But you know what happens? When they die, there isn’t anyone left to pick up the slack, no one else to save lives and change their world for the better,” she sighs, shaking her head. “Just a sad hole in the ground with a set of dusty bones.”

“Is that what you’re afraid of? Me dying for no good reason?” Oliver keeps his voice low, the space between them minimizing by the second. 

Biting her lip, she shakes her head, her long hair dancing around as her hands tighten on his shoulders. “No, I’m afraid you don’t understand how much you mean to those around you. Some people probably wouldn’t be able to recover from losing you.”

He breathes in and out, not really sure if he understands her meaning, not wanting to think too much of a drunken confession.

“And would _you_?” Oliver grits out lowly, feeling the tips of her hair flutter against his cheek. “Would you recover?”

Unbidden, her gaze falls to his lips and she moves infinitely closer, the ends of her flowing skirt edge over his fingers resting on his thighs, inviting and soft. He clenches his hands to prevent himself from sliding those very fingers up her smooth legs beneath the gauzy fabric. Her lashes flutter for a moment, their breathing shallow as it mingles in the electric air. 

But then something inside Felicity causes her to blink hard and stop her movement mere millimeters from his lips, then she pulls away, her hands dropping from his shoulders.

With startlingly clear eyes, she sighs and gives him a tragic smile, her voice is soft but the words are made of steel, “I always recover.”

Oliver spends the next week wondering what would have happened if she hadn't stepped away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are lovely, even if I wait until the next chapter to respond :) #earlymorningemailproblems


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